Life Had Just Begun
by Terra3
Summary: PreOoTP. Spanning from November 1979 to Halloween morning 1981, James Potter tells his story of his past two years. Beginning with Lily's pregnancy along with his father's death, James learns what it means to be a father and a hero. R for mature themes.
1. Surprises

Warning: This fic is rated R for mature situations, violence, and general unpleasantness. Some of the situations may disturb some readers. This is not light fluff. You have been warned. 

Note: This fic was written before the release of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. So, there may be differences between this and new canon. 

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter character and places belong to J. K. Rowling and other related companies. The story and characters not in the books or movies belong to me. Please do not use without my permission. If you wish to use any of my material, please ask. Please enjoy. 

Dedicated to my nephew, Brian Elliot, who was born Sunday September 29th, 2002, around 1:20am.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter One: Surprises

I hate waiting. 

I never did like waiting at all, really. But to add to my torment, they make a room specially designed for the waiting period. Waiting itself is bad enough but waiting for the doctor to come out and tell you whether your wife is okay or not is the worst. Here I was, waiting. 

There was a woman across from me. She looked middle-aged, with gray streaks in her copper hair. Copper hair, my wife has copper hair. Will she get gray streaks like that too? But 50 seemed so far away. Life had just begun. What was I doing with Life? Sitting in a waiting room trying to read the Quidditch scores. My team lost. Just great. 

I started to whistle but then the lady gave me a look so I stopped. "I want to go home," I thought, "Either she's healthy or she's not. I've read every magazine in the place." 

The door opened. The world stopped rotating. The sun went dim. Hell had frozen over. The doctor invited inside. My heart was pounding as I followed her inside. I could already hear the doctor's grim notification, "Sorry to say this Mr. Potter but Lily is dying from Xeleoadpfjapdia. It's incurable and she only has ten seconds to live. Oops, overestimated, sorry."

I looked at Lily's face, trying to memorize it. My fears dissolved. When Lily is excited, she flaps her hands in the air near her chest and dances in her seat. She was waving and dancing like there was no afternoon.

"Mr. Potter, I am pleased to inform you that Lily is pregnant. Congratulations," the doctor said as she smiled. I squealed like a little girl and Lily joined me. The doctor most likely gave us instructions but we were too busy dancing around the room to really listen. After five minutes, the doctor managed to flag us down and give us instructions in writing about changes that needed to be made in Lily's diet.

"Owl post me anytime you need to," the doctor added as she led us out the door, "Take good care of yourself, Lily, and don't forget to come back for prenatal care."

The afternoon sun was turning a bright sun as it began to set. A chill was beginning to set in and Lily wrapped her coat around her tighter. Outside the doctor's office, we just stood there and smiled at each other. 

"Let's go celebrate, James," Lily suggested.

"What should we do?"

Lily twirled around and sighed, "Oh, something special."

"Special?"

"Special."

"Um... that Muggle thing."

Lily snorted, "'That Muggle thing'? Which one, James?"

"You know, that thing. It's a screen with pictures that move are shown on it. You sit in the seats and eat popcorn and stuff. That thing."

"You mean a film?"

"Yeah... I think."

"Nah, not a film. Window shopping?"

"Lily..."

"Just a suggestion, James."

"How about a restaurant?"

"A really nice one."

"How about a Muggle one? We never go to Muggle restaurants."

"We need Muggle money."

"We'll go to Gringott's and exchange some." Lily nodded in agreement, then added, "But we'll have to walk. You know what Doctor Vita told us. No more Apparition for me for eight months."

"No more Floo Powder either," I sighed. 

"I know it's inconvenient but we have to do what's best for the baby right now."

I shook my head and corrected, "I know that. I like walking."

"There's always public transportation."

I shuddered. Lily laughed and began walking forward towards London. It was a twenty-minute walk to Gringott's and we exchanged our money there. 

"We need Muggle clothes," Lily said as we walked out of the Wizarding bank.

"Why?" I asked. The Muggle world often confused me. I had just gotten the hang of the telephone a year before. 

"Because we're going to a Muggle restaurant. We need Muggle clothes."

"Alright. Let's go to your sister's house..." I joked. 

"NO!" Lily screamed as she slapped me across the cheek. I yelped and rubbed my sore left cheek. I sniffled and moaned, "I was kidding, Lily. Geez, like I'd willingly go to that dreaded house."

"It's not funny! How dare you suggest such a thing, even as a joke," Lily hissed. Lily and her sister, Petunia, had never liked each other. They were on completely different wavelengths. Most of the time, we pretended Lily's sister didn't exist. We were under the impression that Petunia and her fat-ass husband, Vernon, did likewise. 

*** ***

The first time I had met Petunia and Vernon was the summer of my fifth year. Lily and I had been dating for the last month of fifth year and I had become interested in her home life. What were real-life Muggles like? Did their houses look different? Did the food taste different? My father suggested that I go to visit Lily for a while to answer such questions and gain the respect of Mister Evans. So, after royally screwing up in the telephone department (held it upside down. It was an honest mistake!), I arranged to stay with the Evans for two weeks in July. When I arrived at the Evans' house, Petunia answered the door. Before I could open my mouth, she slammed the door in my face. Thinking I had mistaken the address, I re-read the slip of paper I had written it on. Same address. I knocked again; perhaps the owners of the house could redirect me. This time, Mister Evans answered. I politely asked if they knew where the Evans lived. He informed me that the house I was standing in front of was the residence of the Evans. 

"Oh, sorry. Perhaps there are TWO Evanses in England. Do you know where Lily Evans' family lives?"

At that moment, Lily came running down the steps, screaming, "I'm here! I live here! I'm coming!" She appeared behind her father, pushed him out of the way and grabbed my bags, giving me that wonderful Lily Evans smile that made me want to jump off buildings to prove my devotion. 

The first week was awful because of Petunia. Lily's parents adored me but Petunia hated the very sight of me. The feeling was mutual. The biggest problem in the Evans house was that Mrs. Evans was in denial about her daughters hating each other. She thought it was just a phase... that had lasted nearly sixteen years. She firmly believed that they would "grow out of it". Anyway, the Friday of the first week, Mrs. Evans told us that she had bought four tickets to the cricket game that Saturday. 

"This will be an excellent chance for Vernon and James to meet each other!" For the next three hours, Lily and Petunia pleaded with their mother to return the tickets. But, the decision was final. 

That morning, I had my first horrible look at Vernon Dursley. He was a beefy, red-faced boy that towered over me. Petunia looked even skinnier and more insect-like when she hugged him. To make the situation even worst, they talked baby-talk with each other in public. I was ready to throw up. Before we left on the trip, Petunia and Lily had begged me to promise to say I was from the countryside and had never been in the city before. Vernon bought it but thought I was an absolute imbecile for not knowing the rules of cricket.

I didn't pay attention to the game. I couldn't understand a game where everyone stayed on the ground. Half-way through the game, I realized I would soon go nuts if I didn't have some sort of other activity.

"Let's go the concession stand, Lily," I suggested to my bored-looking girlfriend.

"I'm not hungry."

"Come anyway," I replied then whispered, "Unless you like sitting here with your sister and her boyfriend." Lily bolted out of her seat and we left the stands. Instead of heading towards the concession stand, I turned towards the girls' toilet. 

"Um... James, this is the girls' toilet," Lily said, meekly.

"So it is. Let's go in," I ordered as I pushed open the door.

"What are you doing?" Lily whispered, trying to close the door. I walked in anyway. There were five stalls and one handicapped stall. Lily nearly knocked me over as she ran in after me. Lily glared at me with the same look she used to use when my other friends and I suggested starting some trouble. She huffed and demanded, "Tell me why we're in the girls' toilet."

"Because I want to snog you."

"WHAT?"

"You know, kiss you. Maybe a little more, like some petting. I'm not picky."

Lily's jaw just dropped. She tried to form words but nothing came out. Composing herself finally, she asked, "Why?!"

"Because you're pretty."

"I know that! Why here?"

"Oh, would you rather do it in the boys' toilet?" I suggested slyly. Teasing Lily was so much fun.

"No, I would not! This is crazy! What if someone comes in while we're getting it on?"

"I didn't mean out here. I meant in the stalls," I corrected.

"That's no different!"

"Yes, it is. We'll lock the door. Watch," I instructed as I guided her into an empty stall and locked it behind me.

Lily let out a little whine, her defenses were breaking down. Just a little shove in the right direction and I'd have a few minutes in heaven with the prettiest Gryffindor in Hogwarts. I unbuttoned the top three buttons of my polo shirt and gave her a little kiss on the forehead. 

An hour later, we emerged from the stall, giggling like maniacs. Lily's hair was tossed in all directions and I had lipstick all over me. It took ten minutes to fix ourselves up so Petunia wouldn't blab. When we left the girls' toilet, we were still giggling and seriously considering just going back in. Lily, the voice of reason, suggested we go back but get some food first to keep up the lie about going to the concession stand. When we returned to our seats, Petunia and Vernon were missing but we didn't care. Ten minutes later, Petunia and Vernon returned. I don't know if Lily noticed it but Vernon had a very clear streak of lipstick on his neck. My day was complete.

*** ***

After taking that trip down Memory Lane, I looked at Lily's angry face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up."

Lily looked up at me, "I'm sorry I slapped you. That was uncalled for."

"It's okay. Hormones and stuff."

"I'm still sorry."

I decided to change the subject. "How about that black dress tonight?"

"I don't think that fits anymore," Lily replied.

"I bet it does. We'll see when we get home," I answered.

After we returned home, Lily went through our collection of Muggle clothes and selected our attire. Lily chose the back-less green dress for herself and tuxedo for me. After that, we went through the listing of Muggle restaurants in the area and decided on the classy, "Hat". 

Muggle restaurants are quieter than Wizard restaurants. The waiters don't magically appear when you're ready to order and tapping the name of a dish did not produce an image in front of you. We wanted quiet that night.

Our waitress was a small girl, most likely in Muggle university, with short blonde hair. She had a very smooth voice but very quiet. We ordered tea for both of us and she toddled away. We sat in blissful silence, lost in our own thoughts. Lily suddenly said, "A."

"A?"

"Names. Think of names starting with A."

"Aaron," I suggested.

"Aaron Potter... that could work."

"Amy?"

"Yuck."

"Abigail?"

"Old-fashioned."

"Andrew?"

"Andrew... no. I don't like that name."

"Aleck."

"Aleck Potter?"

"That sounds dumb," I sighed, "Potter is an awful name."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. It's so boring. You can't have a interesting name with Potter because it sounds strange."

"I think Potter is a fine name, James."

"Lily Potter is the only combination that sounds nice."

"Thank you, James. James Potter sounds fine, too," Lily said.

"No, Lily Potter is sort of funny. Lilies are flowers and they grow in pots, get it?"

"Never mind. Let's start on B," Lily suggested, rolling her eyes.

"I thought it was cute."

"B, James."

"Bertha."

"Are you crazy? Yuck."

"I have a great-aunt named Bertha."

"And how old is she, James? A hundred?"

"96, for your information."

"I'm not naming our child 'Bertha'."

"Benjamin?"

"That's nice."

"Bella."

"Bella Potter. Sounds weird."

"Told you that you can't have cool names with Potter."

Over the course of dinner, we went through the alphabet to search for the perfect name. None came to us.

Sunday was a wet day. We lagged about, thinking of the child-to-be. Every time Lily passed a mirror, she examined her reflection to see if she was showing. She wasn't. I looked over our spare rooms to see what would be an ideal place for our baby to sleep. It seemed to be a very lazy day.

"Owl post, James," Lily called as I measured the room closest to ours near dinner.

"I'm nearly done," I called back. I took the last of my measurements and headed downstairs.

"It's from your mother," Lily said quietly.

"Tell her I'm well."

"Don't you want to read it?"

"Tell her I'm well."

I was not on the best of terms with my parents. I didn't hate them like Lily hated Petunia but I severely disliked them. They weren't mean or bossy to me. I always got what I wanted when I was little. I was spoiled like any other child of a rich family. My parents were simply disappointing. I felt that my father always did what he was supposed to, nothing more or less. He seemed to have never fought for what he believed in or challenged anything. I considered him a sad, pathetic man with no imagination. He did exactly what was expected of him and expected me to act in the same way. The last time we had spoken face to face was at our wedding reception. My father asked me the usual stuff, like had we bought a house and where we were going for our honeymoon. But the question that ticked me off was, "So, when will I see you in my office?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, obviously you're taking up the family business." 

My family made Quidditch supplies. Broomsticks, the balls, the container that held the balls, everything. My family had run the business for three generations. I detested it. I hated everything about that factory, that office. I did not want to "follow in my father's footsteps"; I didn't want to do what was expected of me. I was my own person. I firmly told my father that I already had a job, at the Ministry. My father couldn't comprehend this. A simple discussion turned into a row between us. 

He just disgusted me. I thought he never had an independent thought in his head. My mother was the exact same way, in my opinion, like my parents had been made in a factory as well. They never questioned anything except me because I did question them. I questioned the world. I just couldn't live like my father and mother.

"You really should answer the letter yourself," Lily said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

"Tell her I'm well."

"It's important, James. You should read this one."

"Has someone died?"

"Not really."

"Then it's not important."

Lily frowned at me. She sighed and began to read the letter aloud, "'Dear James, I hope you are well. I'm just writing to inform you that your father has gone missing. I don't want you to panic but just thought you should be informed. If you see him, please contact me. We are all very worried about him. Love, Mother.'" Lily looked at me for my response.

"Missing? Since when?" I asked. Sure, I disliked my father but I didn't want any harm done to him.

"She doesn't say. Maybe you should ask," Lily suggested. She went through the rest of the mail without a word. I felt guilt gnawing at my stomach. How long had it been since I had written to my mother? Six years? I got a piece of paper and a quill out to write to my mother. Lily smiled at me.

I was at a loss about what to say to my mother. I tapped the quill in the inkwell until Lily said, "How about 'Dear Mother'?"

I wrote down "Dear Mother". I paused then turned to Lily, "What now?"

"Say what you're thinking."

"All I'm thinking about is whether my father is okay."

"Then tell her so. She'll be happy just to receive a sentence from you."

I wrote down my concern for my father's safety and told her I hoped she was alright. To cheer her up, I added that Lily was pregnant. I signed the letter and sealed it up, laying in the bin marked, "Going out."

Before I could ask Lily what we were going to have for dinner, a small orange ball of fur jumped into my lap.

"Get off me, Crookshanks," I ordered the evil kitten. A month before, Lily decided she wanted a pet so off she went to the Magical Menagerie on Diagon Alley. That night, to my horror, she brought home the kitten from Hell. Lily named him Crookshanks and loved him to bits. Crookshanks was no ordinary kitten since it apparently was cross-breed of a regular cat and a Kneazle, so it was infused with magical abilities, comprehension of human speech, and longer life span, Crookshanks made my dreary life a nightmare. Lily, however, simply adored him so I had to deal with my kitty rival.

"How's my baby?" Lily cooed as she picked him off my lap, "Are you hungry, Crookshanks? Yes, you are!" Lily filled Crookshanks' food dish with cat food, cooing over and over.

"I'm hungry, too, if anyone cares," I told her.

"You can make food, too, you know," Lily replied, not looking up from Crookshanks.

"I believe you love that cat more than me."

"Crookshanks is a better kisser, aren't you, Crookshanks?"

"I refuse to compare myself to a cat."

"Good thing. It's insulting to Crookshanks if you do."

Grumbling, I got up to make my dinner. Lily ignored me for Crookshanks. I managed to make a satisfying dinner that wasn't poisonous. We spent the rest of the evening talking about nothing in particular and agreed that we would announce Lily's pregnancy the following morning at the Ministry.

I went to bed thinking my life was simply perfect. I had no idea how bad life would become in the following months.

To be continued...

Author's Notes: I was amused by the theory that Crookshanks was originally the Potters' cat so I added it in. By the way, "snog" and "petting" are old-fashioned words from the Seventies. Since they probably dated in the Seventies, they would have used these words. I know this because my youngest brother was born in 1981 and my parents dated in the Seventies and used these words in Ireland (Britain used similar slang). There's my little history lesson! Hope you come back!


	2. Blood is Thicker Than Water

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Two: Blood is Thicker Than Water

The entire office clapped as the last syllable left my throat. Lily blushed madly at the attention. It had been my idea to stand on a desk and announce it to the world from there. I gave her a big kiss in front of everyone and someone in the back whistled.

"I have to go to my department now," Lily said, gingerly climbing off the desk and heading towards her desk so many halls away. I felt rather silly standing on the desk by myself so I leapt off and headed towards my department as a few men clapped me on the back in congratulations. 

I worked in the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry. Lily worked in the Department of Muggle Affairs with Arthur Weasley. I grinned as I imagined Mr. Weasley offering child-rearing tips to my wife. At the time, Mr. Weasley's wife was also expecting a child, their sixth child; fifth pregnancy. The last one had resulted in twins.

I paused before I turned the last corner. The single lonely hall was the closest way to get to the office were my co-workers and I worked. The long walk down that hall made my blood run cold. The hall containing the offices of the Aurors, the frightening hunters of Dark Wizards, always gave me the creeps. I took one deep calming breath before turning the corner and beginning the walk down the Aurors' Hall, as it was called. The hall itself seemed to pull at my clothes, sniffing me out. I feared if I so much as thought about joining the league of Darkness, the walls would smell the thought on me and the Aurors would swoop down and swallow me whole. 

I would soon learn there was more frightening things than walking down creepy hallways.

I survived my journey down the dark, cold hallway that day and once back into the magically produced light, I walked merrily. There were no windows where I worked and every desk was hidden by wooden cubicle. Work was well in progress as I strode in, greeting people as I passed them. At the end of the fifth row, the row closest to the wall was my desk. I could almost see my desk in my mind before I walked in. My polished wooden desk would be clear of paperwork since I put all my paperwork in the locked cabinet on Friday. On the desk was a picture of Lily and I at the last day of Hogwarts, after our N.E.W.T.S., on the left corner, my cup of quills in the center, and a picture of Lily, Sirius "Padfoot" Black (my best friend), and I at our wedding on the right corner. 

I walked in the little opening of my cubicle and noticed a striking difference from the mind's picture of my desk. The pictures and cup were in their proper places and the paperwork was still unseen but on the desk a message was written. The writer had used a dark red liquid to write on my desk: "Give it up". The liquid certainly wasn't ink. It looked a little like blood.

I snorted at the thought, telling myself, "Blood, James? You'd have to _kill_ someone to get enough. Probably some prank by one of the Aurors trying to rattle me." I shook my head in disbelief. I wanted Dark Lord gone as much as anyone but the Aurors were not going to catch him by writing cryptic messages on my desk with a red substance. "That stuff better come off. I have to work," I mumbled, unlocking the cabinet as I did so. The lock clicked and I absent-mindedly opened the drawer. Should I work on that stone enchanting charm case first? I wondered. I reached my hand down to take out the file but I touched something else instead. It felt like a plastic bag. Perplexed, I looked down into my drawer. 

Sitting on top of my files, in a stapled clear plastic bag, were pale chopped bits of flesh. A human eyeball stared up at me. My words rang in my head, You'd have to kill someone... You'd have to kill someone... I quickly dropped the bag and stared at the cryptic message. The words written in red glistened menacingly. Blood. It was blood.

I screamed and ran out of my cubicle. Even out of my cubicle, I kept screaming. I couldn't stop. Half the office ran to me, inquiring what was wrong. Finally, I became aware of their presence. My mind was in disarray. 

"Blood... on my desk... body parts in my drawer... Oh God... Someone's dead... I feel faint..." I muttered at them. A young woman walked into my office and quickly came back out, shaking. She nodded, biting her lip. The people around me gasped. I felt sick. The room was spinning. Why my desk? Who is in my desk? Whose blood did they use? I stood up, ignoring the advice of my co-workers and I staggered to the lavatory. I banged open a stall, kneeled down in front of the toilet and vomited. 

Lily's voice rang in my head, "Your father is missing... Your father is missing..."

It hit me. Father was in my desk. My father had been chopped up and his blood had been used to write that message on my desk. I began to sob. I vomited again, tears running down my face. 

After some time, I felt a hand rubbing my back. A soft, masculine voice tried to soothe me, saying, "There you go. Let it out. That's a good boy." I was coughing up only bile at that point so I turned around to face my intruder. Sitting cross-legged, Frank Longbottom smiled calmly at me, inquiring, "Are you better now?"

"No, I just found a corpse in my desk," I answered abruptly. 

"I know. The entire force of Aurors is combing your desk right now. I was sent to check up on you. What should I report?"

"I think my father's in there," I whimpered.

Mr. Longbottom patted me on the shoulder, saying, "These are truly hard times. I'm sorry if it is your father, James." There was a pause, broken by me sniffling. Finally, Longbottom said, "I hear your wife is pregnant."

I smiled weakly and answered, "Yeah. The doctor said she's a month along." I had a sudden flash of memory and asked, "Isn't your wife pregnant too?"

"That she is. Two months to go for us," he replied.

Frank and Olivia Longbottom were a strange couple. Frank was a serious, hard-working man, Olivia was an easy-going woman. At first glance, they seemed to be incompatible but once you met them, you knew they were truly in love. Frank was a tall, thin man who absolutely dwarfed his short, plump wife. 

Olivia was a florist by day. Olivia also had a secret identity that few knew about. Olivia was an emergency Auror. Olivia did a lot of spying for the forces of light. Looking at her, one wouldn't think she would make a good spy. She was clumsy, talkative, and scatter-brained. That's what made her such a good one. No one would ever suspect that the woman on the bench talking about how much she hated Muggles would actually be a spy gathering information from the Deatheater trying to recruit her. You either loved her or despised her. Lily loved her to pieces, saying, "She represents everything Petunia hates. Perfect!"

Longbottom was the essence of calm and control. He walked gracefully and spoke softly. He was one of the most pleasant Auror to talk to and one of the few that didn't resort to using the Unforgivable curses on Deatheaters if he could help it. This is not to say he was soft-hearted. He was as vicious as they came. As far as I knew, he had never failed to bring in the Deatheater he wanted. If one was not a Deatheater, his presence was very comforting. 

"Have you decided on a name yet?" I asked.

"Neville if it's a boy, Natasha if it's a girl," Longbottom answered, smiling, "Have you two decided on any names?"

I shrugged, saying, "No. We went through the alphabet but nothing sounded good."

"Get a baby name book. That's what we did." He went into his pocket and pulled out a roll of mints. He smiled and remarked, "Sorry to say but you smell like vomit. Take one, please."

I took a mint and placed it on my tongue. I hadn't fully recovered, I still felt shaky. I didn't want to go back to my desk but I had to get some work done. I also had to pretend everything was normal for Lily's sake. Lily had enough on her mind, she didn't need to know about the blood... and the body... and the message. I was beginning to feel faint again. I leaned against the cool wall of the toilet stall.

"Do you want someone to tell Lily for you?" Longbottom asked, looking worried. I probably looked like hell.

"No, not right now," I replied, weakly. "I'll tell her later," I lied.

"Well, you won't need to worry about work today," Longbottom sighed.

"Why not?"

"We had to confiscate the desk. We need to identify the body. And try to see if there's any sign of who did this." He stood up, brushing himself off. Looking at me like a mother at her sick child, he said, "Take the time to recover yourself. Your desk should be returned tomorrow." With that, he left.

I sat there, crumpled on the tiled floor. All my previous energy had sucked out of me. Even the thought of Lily's pregnancy seemed cold. The thought of bringing a defenseless child into this terrible world made me want to cry. Cry I did until I had no tears left.*** ***I went home at the usual time with Lily. Lily had not received any cryptic messages written in blood or found any chopped up body parts in her desk. Her day had been very pleasant and she chattered excitedly with me about it. I didn't listen. I just nodded at the right moments. I felt listless and weak."So, how was your day, James?" Lily asked."Oh... fine."Lily frowned, responded, "You feeling okay? You seem a bit off. Something bothering you?"Yes, something was bothering me. I found a body all chopped up in my drawer and a message written in blood. Other than that, my day was lovely."No, everything's fine. I'm just hungry, I guess.""Me too. I feel like pasta.""Sure.""Doctor Vita told me I should listen to my instincts because the baby is telling what it wants.""Fine.""Are you sure you're okay?""I'm great," I told her. I gave her a smile that was so fake I couldn't believe that she didn't notice it.We made pasta and Lily continued to chat away at me. I piped in now and then but my heart wasn't in it.After dinner, I sat on the couch trying to banish the day's images from my mind. The images wouldn't go away. I needed to get out. I needed to make the thoughts go away. Lily sat in her chair, flipping through a fashion catalog, lingering over the maternity section. "I'm going for a walk, Lily," I told her, walking towards my coat, "do you mind?""Nope. Go ahead."With her blessing, I left the house, into the cold December air. My breath came out in white clouds and the stars shone dimly above me. I walked along the houses of our street, trying to find solace. I could find none. I walked on past our block into the borders of downtown. The first building I encountered was a bar. I went into the bar and sat at one of the stools. Even there, the thoughts would not leave. I had to make them go away. 

"Excuse me," I asked the bartender, "um... is the air above this building good for flying?" That rather silly phrase is a code for "is this a Wizarding bar?" 

"Yes, it sure is," the bartender replied, "What would you like?"

The words written in blood flashed before my eyes. I needed something strong. "Do you serve Raging Dog?" 

"Sure do."

Raging Dog is the most potent alcoholic beverage in the Wizarding world. One bottle was usually enough for most people. I knew a bottle of Raging Dog would banish every thought from my mind. The bottle was placed in front of me with an empty glass. I decided to forgo the glass and drink straight from the bottle. I didn't want to be too long, Lily would worry. I took a huge gulp of the drink. I nearly choked as the liquid went down my throat. I already felt dizzy and light-headed. I gripped on to the railing to keep my balance. Once the initial shock wore off, I felt very happy. 

I couldn't stop smiling. I took another gulp. The room spun in front of me and I very nearly fell off the stool. 

"You okay, sir?" The bartender asked, obviously worried. One should not gulp Raging Dog. 

"I'm not okay!" I hollered, "I'm terrific! Everything is perfect! The world is full of rainbows and puppy dogs!" 

I giggled. I had never felt better. What had I been so worried about? I couldn't remember. I took another gulp and I couldn't stop giggling. Everything was hilarious, even the bartender's very frightened expression. 

Another Raging Dog later, I staggered out of the bar, humming to myself. I leaned against a lamp post as the world swayed around me. I felt so light. I wanted to sing so I did in the middle of the street. I slid down the post and sat on the walkway, blissfully content. The bartender, finally being rid of his last customer (me), closed his business for the remainder of the night. He looked at me sitting there, humming to myself.

He bent down and commented, "You got a home, don't'cha?" 

"Yup," I said, then hiccuped. 

"Well, shouldn't you be headed there?" 

"In a moment," I drawled, giggling. 

The bartender sighed. I was a lost cause. He walked away, back to his own home far away. I sang a few bars of a new song on the Wizarding radio. I looked up at the sky. 

"Such pretty stars," I said to myself. 

I brought my knees close to my chest like when I went star-gazing when I was little. "I wish I was little," I said, glumly. The high was beginning to wane. I noticed the moon between the trees. "I wonder how Moony is." 

I adjusted myself (and nearly fell flat on my face) to have a better look at the moon. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? No, I could clearly tell its phase.

"It's full!" I moaned, "Oh no! I'm not at Moony's! He needs me there!" I became hysterical. I struggled to stand up but the street kept rocking under me. I used the lamp post to steady myself. I needed to Apparate. I couldn't remember how! I tore at my crazy hair. I glanced at the moon once more.

*** ***

The next thing I knew I was lying on a dusty wooden floor. I felt awful. My head felt like it was being bashed against a wall with nails on it. I felt really nauseous and really thirsty. Someone had also taken my glasses so I couldn't see a thing. I struggled to a crawling position to investigate where I was. As far as I could tell, there was little furniture in the room. I saw four blurry chairs and a blurry table. To my left was a doorway with no door. 

A soft murmuring was coming from the other room but it seemed to make my headache worse. The first priority was to find my glasses. I crawled on the gritty floor to search for my glasses. My search was interrupted by a loud voice screeching. 

"WHAT IS HE DOING THERE?!" Lily. Oh great, just what I needed. A very angry Lily. No, make that a very angry, hormone-filled pregnant Lily. Someone murmured in response. Lily shouted back, "I don't CARE if you don't know! Send him back!" Murmuring. "Wake him up then! He has to be at work!" I heard someone rise from a chair in the other room. I curled up in a ball. Don't send me back, I pleaded, please don't. 

"James," the owner of the house beckoned softly. It was Remus. 

"Remus?" I weakly replied. Remus placed my glasses in my hands. I put them on and Remus' face came into focus. 

"Me. James, you have to speak to Lily." 

"Please. I don't want to. I really don't feel good," I pleaded. 

"You must speak to Lily. She's been worried sick." 

Remus offered his hand and hoisted me up. I felt sicker standing up and I stumbled over to the fireplace where Lily's very angry face was. "There you are! Do you realize I was worried sick?!" Lily howled. 

"Yes. Lily, I can't go to work. I feel awful," I moaned. 

"Where were you last night? You went for a walk and never came back!" 

"I went to a bar," I muttered in shame. 

"WHAT FOR?!" 

"I can't remember right now... please don't yell." 

"I CAN YELL AS MUCH AS I BLOODY WANT!" 

Remus moved me aside and addressed Lily, "Lily, he's obviously hung over. He can't work like this. Just send an owl ahead of you saying that he's sick," Remus paused and added, "which he is, if you think about it. When he's well enough to travel, I'll send him home." 

Lily let out a sharp breath. She answered, "Fine. He better be at home when I get back from work!" Then Lily's head vanished. 

A long silence hung between us. Finally, I could feel my insides running up my pipes and asked Remus for a bowl to vomit in. After I was done coughing up my dinner, Remus asked, "So, may I inquire why you found the need to be dead drunk last night?" 

"I had a really awful day and I don't want to talk about it," I replied coldly. "How did I get here anyway? Last thing I remember is trying to figure out how to Apparate." 

Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose and sat in one of the dingy wooden chairs. He said, "As far as I can gather, you decided not to Apparate. You stumbled to my house on foot. Once you reached my house, you howled that you couldn't remember your Animagus form," Remus paused to see my reaction. I shook my head. Had I been so drunk that I couldn't remember my form was a stag? Remus continued, "Luckily for you and me, I was awake. I heard you screaming and I went to investigate. I found you staggering around outside my house, moaning. I knew you were obviously drunk so I led you inside. I laid you down on the floor for a minute while I went to put your coat away. By the time I returned, you were asleep." 

"So, when did you find time to become a werewolf?" I asked. 

"It wasn't a full moon last night, James," Remus replied matter-of-factly. 

"It was... I know it was... I saw..." 

"James, you probably had so much alcohol that you saw a waning moon and imagined it to be full." 

I felt pretty dumb. I was lucky it wasn't full because the werewolf would have probably eaten me or turned me into a werewolf as well. "I'm sorry, Remus," I mumbled. 

"It's alright, James. You really should be apologizing to Lily though. She was frantic when she called me." 

I felt awful about what I had done to Lily. I wanted to curl up in a corner and die from shame and guilt. Remus let me stay an hour before deciding it was time for me to be off. He used Floo Powder to escort me home. When I reached home, I dragged myself upstairs and collapsed on my bed. I slept the entire time Lily was gone. Her opening the door woke me up. She stomped into the room and looked me straight in the face. 

I tried to dissolve into the sheets. 

"You better have a good reason why you went to a bar last night," Lily hissed. 

"I was... celebrating," I stammered. "I got... carried away." 

"What did you have?" 

"Two bottles of Raging Dog." 

Lily rolled her eyes at me. "James..." 

"I don't know why I picked Raging Dog. It seemed like a good idea at the time," I whispered, trying to avoid Lily's wrath. 

Lily took a deep breath. "Fine. Okay." Lily threw up her arms to the ceiling. "No point getting mad now. I bet you're feeling bad anyway. Just don't do this again!" Lily swooped out of the room and closed the door with an earth-shaking bang. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered after her. 

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: In case you're wondering where the term "Raging Dog" came from, I was thinking about Red Bull, an energy drink. This made me think of Red Dog, a type of beer. So, I used the same first letter and made Raging Dog. I'm pretty sure that drinking that much alcohol would kill you, so don't do that. Please e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com or review! See ya later!


	3. Empty Spaces

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Three: Empty Spaces

Lily didn't talk to me the rest of the night and we went to bed in silence. The next morning, we headed to the Ministry and separated to our departments. Since two days had passed since someone left the "present" in my desk, I thought my desk would be occupying my cubicle. When I entered my cubicle, there was no desk to be found.

"Okay, where's my desk now?" I asked myself. I forced myself to re-enter the creepy hallway of the Aurors and randomly knocked on the first door that caught my attention. The hall pulled at my shirt as I waited. The door swung open and Frank Longbottom was the occupant of the office.

"You knocked?" Frank asked.

"Yes," I replied, "where is my desk?"

"We had to confiscate it, remember?"

"Yes, but you said it would be back in a day. So, the desk should have been back yesterday and still here today."

"It is not wise to return your desk just yet."

I stomped my foot like a spoiled little rich kid, "I need to work! How am I supposed to work without my desk or even my files?!"

"I can arrange for the files but the desk can not be returned right now," Frank answered with an air of closure. According to him, the matter was over. It wasn't over for me.

"How soon will I get my files? Next week?"

"As soon as I can. Some files are being examined as well since some drops of blood fell on the topmost and others may have curses placed on them. In short, good day, Mr. Potter." Longbottom slammed the door in my face. An Auror passing me on the way to his office chuckled.

"Merlin, I hate Aurors!" I mumbled under my breath.

I eventually did receive some of my files but most had to be kept for evidence. I still had not received my desk so I worked on the floor, using a clipboard one of the secretaries used. I couldn't really concentrate on my work. Why did my father have to die? What did he ever do? Of course, the Aurors kept telling me not to jump to conclusions because my father could be alive, if not well. I knew it was him, I just knew it. It was too much to handle. Lily being pregnant with our first child just tightened my nerves more. 

I tried to find a bright side to the situation and after much searching, I found it. At least, I reasoned, the Dark Lord would not dare to directly attack the Ministry. So, as long as Lily was at the Ministry, she was fine. Also, because Lily worked at the Ministry, she was always at arm's length, just a brisk walk away. I could keep an eye on her. Everything was alright as long as Lily stayed close.

My thoughts were interrupted by a foot tapping outside the entrance of my cubicle. "So, the rumors are true."

I glanced up. Her arms crossed, Lily glared down at my crouching form. "Is it lunch yet, Lily?" I asked sweetly. Don't ask about the desk, I pleaded silently.

"Where's your desk, James?" 

Damn. "Uh... one of the legs broke. It's getting fixed."

"Why didn't you fix it yourself, Mr. Head-Boy?"

"Tired," I explained weakly.

"I heard something quite different. Do you want to tell me or do you want to hear it first and then admit that it's right?"

I bowed my head. Lily continued, "I've heard rumors that something unpleasant was in your desk. No one will tell me what, but according to my sources at the water cooler, it shook you up pretty bad." I said nothing. Lily got on her knees and rubbed my head, cooing, "James. Tell me what's wrong. Please."

"I can't. You don't need to know."

Lily scoffed, "Yes, I need to know. Tell me. Is it the reason that you had two Raging Dogs the night before last?" I nodded glumly. "James, come on. You don't have to suffer alone."

"Lily... I think you have enough on your mind..."

"James! I'm your wife! Tell me."

I stared intently at my fingers and felt hot tears stinging my eyes. Lily wiped them away which comforted me slightly. I took a deep breath and told her what I found and who I thought it was. After I was done, Lily hugged me to her chest and rocked me slightly. This rather soothing moment was shattered by Percy Weatherby, the bootlicker, coming in and saying, "Look, this is a professional establishment. Leave the romance at home!" He turned his nose up at us and stalked off.

Lily gave me a little kiss on the forehead and said, "Better now? Because if I don't eat right this minute, I'm gonna die!" She whimpered as I laughed.

The day went by quickly and Thursday passed without much fuss and without a desk. Friday dawned on us and, forbid the thought, my desk was in its proper place. I nearly died from shock. Lily ate two lunches now, one before I went to lunch and one with me and both times she ate more than Sirius could in a week. That's saying a lot, considering Sirius.

As we walked home, Lily sighed, "That's the last of it."

"Last of what, Lily?"

"Last day I work until the baby is born."

I stopped cold in the street. "WHAT?"

Lily rolled her eyes and explained, "I told you on Monday. Because of what is going on, pregnant women are at risk so I'm being allowed a vacation until the baby is born."

There goes my perfect vision of security. Now she would be completely unprotected in our house while I was at work. I might as well have drawn a target on her belly, reading, "Aim here!" Could nothing go right for me?

"But... you can't."

"I can, too, James. It's a paid vacation. Mr. Weasley arranged it for me."

The next time I see Mr. Weasley, I swore, I am going to skin him. Didn't he understand that I needed Lily to stay close since psycho Death Eaters had no qualms about killing random family members?

"You'll be bored to death, Lily!"

"I will not. I have too much to do before the baby is born. Having a vacation is a wonderful idea, I'll have plenty of time to prepare now."

Time to prepare to have a horrible "accident" while I'm at work!

"I could help out. It's not like you're doing it all alone..."

Lily cut me off, "It doesn't matter. The vacation has already been agreed upon and everyone else thought it was a great idea. It's not like I'm moving to Siberia or something!"

It was just too far for me. Much too far.

*** ***

We spent Friday night re-examining the potential rooms for our little one. 

"I want it close to our room," Lily said.

I disagreed, "No, because as it grows up, it'll want independence. It should be farther down the hall."

"But what if it cries during the night? It'll have farther to go when it has nightmares."

"But if it's right next to our room, the cries will be unbearably loud."

"What's wrong with that? Either way, we'll hear it crying. And we'll have farther to walk if we have it down the hall."

"But there will be a time when it won't cry in the night or have nightmares and it won't want to be so close to our room. It'll need SPACE."

"Then we'll move it down the hall when it gets to that stage but during its formative years, it will need us close."

"What if we have another kid? We won't be able to move the first one."

"If we have another kid, then that kid will have to be closer for the first kid to be farther. Either way, a baby has to be put in this room."

I sighed. "We can decide this later, you know."

"No, we can't! There are a million things we have to do the room before the baby arrives. But if don't have a room decided upon, we can't prepare it and everything will be screwed up!"

There was one thing I could count on and that was Lily being overly prepared for every situation. This was going to get ugly. She had that look on her face that she had when N.E.W.T.S. were announced. Determined but stressed.

I put my hand on her shoulder and changed the subject. "Okay, for the minute, let's forget about the room. Do we want to paint the walls?"

"Yes, of course. The white walls in both rooms drive me nuts."

"Okay, what colour?"

"Yellow. But not bright, kind of soft and muted."

"How can a visual thing like a colour be soft or muted?"

"It just is. Or maybe lilac?"

"Ew. No."

So, we spent the next three hours discussing what we would do to either room. Rather, Lily described what she imagined and I let myself go along for the ride. 

We have had completely different childhoods. Lily's family had been lower middle class. Petunia and she had shared a room, or "The Cupboard," as they had called it. Lily had never had a space to call her own where she could rip up paper, or sit and dream. I, on the other hand, had an entire wing to myself, but it was rather impersonal. My family's mansion was much like a museum; I always felt I was just visiting. The playful part of me always seemed to be sucked away in the empty, echoing halls and every whisper seemed too loud.

We agreed that the room would be a private place for our child. We vowed we would always knock before entering (neither of our families had done that for us) and not get too upset if our child locked the door (again, both of our families were furious at locked doors). The effect we agreed upon having was "being enveloped in a warm, fluffy blanket after a run in the rain," as Lily had put it. We would cover the hard wood floors with a snuggly rug and stuffed animals would dominate the room (I never had a stuffed animal). We decided that the room would not be decorated with a baby theme; the room would be age-neutral and grow with the child-to-be.

After we were all talked out, we sat on the floor of the farthest room and smiled at each other. We had big things planned for our little one. Lily was right; there was too much to do.

Saturday morning was bitterly cold. I woke before Lily so I made breakfast for both of us. Breakfast finally being prepared, I went upstairs to examine the two finalists for the baby's room. I amused myself with the image of the rooms dueling over who would get picked to house the first child. I looked out the window in the farthest room from us. The wind howled outside. I felt cold within the blank walls. I tried to imagine the room as the final product. The walls all painted yellow, the crib far from the window to prevent the baby catching drafts, enormous stuffed toys in every corner, chimes hanging from the ceiling, a soft rug to lay on and dream little dreams or read picture books endlessly, calm prints hanging on the wall. The room would be the essence of comfort and serenity. 

I opened my eyes and there were no prints, stuffed animals, or soft, melodious voices reading aloud for the first time. There were only stark walls, cold, hard wood floors, and the wind howling angrily outside. The whole wizarding world was like this room, I thought. We all close our eyes and imagine the very essence of peace but when our eyes are open, the reality hits us. The world is very cold and stark. I didn't want to redecorate a room, I wanted to redecorate the world. Everyone wanted stuffed animals and fuzzy rugs to dream on. But the Dark Lord took all our stuffed teddies and burned all the rugs until we were left with the blank walls and the wind that moans outside the window. We can always close our eyes and imagine the painted walls and the stuffed toys, but they aren't there. We are standing in an unpainted room and there is little we can do about it. The only paint available is blood.

"James? Are you crying?"

Lily's voice called my attention back to reality.

"Um... yeah. Just thinking about what we're going to do to the room. It's a pretty picture; I was overcome."

"Yes, it will be pretty," Lily sighed as she glanced around the room, then answered, "I was thinking. This room is bigger and it has a lovely view from the window. Maybe this room will be better for the baby."

I could feel the room bowing triumphantly.

"Aren't I always right?"

"This time, perhaps. A million to one, me. Did you make breakfast?"

"Yes, I did. Did you like it?"

"I haven't eaten it. You weren't eating it; can't be too careful when you're married to a former Marauder."

The Marauders was the nickname for my little group back at Hogwarts. It was composed of Sirius Black aka Padfoot, Remus Lupin aka Moony, Peter Pettigrew aka Wormtail, and me, the infamous Prongs. During our duration at Hogwarts, we created a map, The Marauders Map, which showed secret entrances, passwords, and where people who would do us harm and ourselves were in the area. With it, we had a delightful time playing pranks and exploring. Before we left school, we debated whether or not to will it to a second-year or destroy it completely. I finally took the opportunity for compromise. Lily, the ever-faithful girlfriend and part-time prankster, hid the Map behind a brick in the girls' dorm. To ensure its safety, Lily put a Charm on it to protect it from mildew and arson though the years. Afterwards, I told the others that Filch had caught me with it. Luckily, I added, it had been blank so we were safe. My friends still believe that the Map is in Filch's office. As far as we know, it is still there, waiting to be discovered and, boy, it will be a find. Once the pranksters figure out how to use it since we forgot to include directions. Ah, well, make them work a little.

"I didn't do anything to it. It's healthy for human consumption... I think."

"Don't say that!" Lily laughed as she left the room.

We joke. We laugh. We can close our eyes and mentally paint the walls. But the wind will always howl outside.

To be continued...

Author's Notes: I have nothing witty to say. Sorry. Please review or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	4. Arrangements

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Four: Arrangements

I numbly watched my wife hustle and bustle around the living room as she scrambled for her coat and boots.

"You don't want to come?" Lily asked for about the millionth time as she sat in a chair in the front hall.

"No, enjoy your mother's without me," I moaned. Just go already, I silently pleaded.

I usually enjoy the presence of my darling wife. I love the way she laughs. I love the way her hair sways from side to side when she talks. I love the scent of my wife floating in the air, digging itself into the fabric of our couch. I simply adore her.

However, I had completely forgotten that a pregnant witch's powers go completely wonky and usually mildly destructive. Over the course the day, Lily's powers had caused a door to fly off the cabinet, a chair to slide out from under me during breakfast, the table to collapse, a butcher knife to come flying at me, and my glasses to levitate off my face and out of reach for about an hour (I had a spare pair of glasses). Just before lunch, her powers electrocuted Crookshanks, caused our sandwiches to explode violently, set my shirt on fire with me wearing it, turned my hair green (it changed back after ten minutes), made biscuits magically appear and disappear in random places, like the shower, and the bathroom was turned into a rainforest for two hours. After lunch, a tree grew in our living room, then it turned into a dandelion, which I pulled out of the ground, books attacked me, our stairs became a steep ramp for thirty minutes, and I levitated against my will over the coffee table. All in all, I was not a happy husband and ready to see my wife leave for a long time.

"Maybe you should leave your wand here," I suggested tersely, "since, you know, you can't really control yourself right now."

"James, those were accidents! I doubt they'll happen that bad again."

"That's not what the doctor said."

Lily frowned and mumbled, "I said I was sorry."

"I know that you're sorry but I don't want you harming your parents by accident," I said, gritting my teeth as I tried not to lose my patience. My back still hurt from crashing on to the coffee table.

Lily sighed, "Fine. I'll leave it here." She placed her wand on the table. There was a silence between us, then Lily said, "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

"I'm not mad. I'm tense. I had a nerve-wracking day."

"I said I was sorry! Why don't you believe me?!" Lily responded.

"I do believe you! I just hurt a little right now." I clinched my hands. Please come, Mister Taxi-Man.

"No, you don't!" Lily choked up. I stood up, alarmed.

"Lily! Please don't cry!" Behind me, a seat cushion blew up. The cushion I had been sitting on. 

Lily wailed, "I didn't mean that!" I looked at the cushion's remains. Delicate pieces of fluff floated in the air. It was almost comical. I looked back at the sobbing Lily. Smooth move, James, I thought, good job yelling at your pregnant wife and making her cry. I sat down beside her chair and held her hand, feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. The coffee table is not a nice place to land. I know it's not your fault."

"I'm sorry about this whole rotten day," Lily sniffled.

"Let's just forget about everything that happened. Stuff blew up. It's over. It's not your fault." I rested my hand on her knee.

"But I'll be doing that for the next eight months."

"Well, we'll deal."

We sat in silence once more until Lily looked at me and asked, "Say, speaking of accidents, have you gone to Sirius' lately?"

Ouch. Forgot about Sirius. This wasn't my day.

"No," I moaned.

"Maybe you should. He just might think you're a rotten friend."

I murmured, "I am a rotten friend for not seeing him for two weeks."

"I'm just kidding. He'll understand that you've been busy," Lily said then added, "Besides, now's a perfect time to brag to all your friends that I'm pregnant."

"Hey, that's what you're doing, right?" I laughed. "You big bragger."

"Why else would I go to Mother's with my own free will?" Lily joked. A Muggle taxi pulled up in front. "That's mine, James." She stood up and put on her coat. "Don't forget to visit Sirius!" She kissed me on the cheek, looked at the couch and added, "And fix that cushion, won't you?"

She walked out the door as I waved good bye from the door until the taxi drove away. Taking her wand, I carefully placed it in its case upstairs in the closet, far from her reach, before gathering my own wand from the kitchen and fixing the cushion. I lit the fire in the fireplace and threw some Communication Powder in the flames.

"The home of Sirius Black," I told the flames, which turned white. Within moments, Sirius' head appeared.

"Funny," he said, "I was just about to call you."

"Want me to come over?" I asked.

"Fine, I'll get something on." The head of Sirius vanished and I Apparated away.

*** ***

Sirius Black is an unusual character and my best friend. I met him at Hogwarts and we wound up being sorted into the Gryffindor House, along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. He had a magnetic personality and was friendly to everyone. I, on the other hand, did not attract friends quickly. During my youth, I knew few playmates. Since the Potter was a pure-blood family (I can trace my lineage back to a Hogwarts founder, Godric Gryffindor), we mostly associated with other pure-blood families. The children of these families thought I was bizarre and either avoided me or teased me. Children of other wizarding families were terrified of the rumors of other pure-blood children and avoided me or thought me a snob and wanted nothing to do with me. My childhood was a lonely one and my self-esteem was badly bruised from my pure-blood tormentors. Such was my personality when I entered Hogwarts at age eleven.

When I arrived there and met Sirius Black, I wanted nothing more than to be his friend. I guess I sort of wanted to _be_ him. I wanted his confidence and charisma. But, I thought to myself, Sirius Black would never want a boring kid like me to hang around with him so it was better to give up before I really looked stupid. For the first month, I kept my head down and did my work like I was told to do by my parents. I tried to attract as little as attention as possible and spoke to practically no one.

My father had given me an invisibility cloak before I left for Hogwarts. He wanted me to stay a good kid of course but sometimes the rules needed bending. In order to become a head boy, I had to work on my studies. However, the library was closed at certain hours. Of course, this rule was for bad kids who would go out at night and cause trouble, but good kids suffered because of it. I was not to be deprived of my studies so the cloak was to be used for studying late at night and not getting caught. I was strictly forbidden to use it for frivolous desires.

Late one night, I heard a bed creak in our dormitory. Curious, I investigated. I saw Sirius sneaking out of the room. I followed him all the way down to the common room. Gathering all my courage, I whispered, "Where are you going?"

Sirius jumped in surprise and twirled to face me. "Dang, you're quiet. I didn't even suspect you breathing back there!" Sirius hissed back.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't sleep," Sirius replied, annoyed, "so I'm going to the kitchens to get something to eat."

"But it's the middle of the night!" I whispered.

"Early in the morning, actually. Doesn't matter, anyway; I'm hungry." Sirius turned to continue his trek to the kitchens.

I was in such a dilemma. I could either do the proper thing and go get someone and tell them that Sirius Black was sneaking out or save his skin and let him go. I wanted Sirius to be my friend but I didn't want to break rules; Father would never allow it. But if I told on Sirius, he would kill me stone dead. Before I knew what I was doing, I said, "I have an invisibility cloak!"

Sirius stopped cold. "Excuse me?"

"I've got... an invisibility cloak?" I mumbled, instantly regretting my words. My father was going to kill me if he found out I was about to help Sirius sneak out.

Sirius blinked at me. "Why?"

"My father gave it to me for studying. I don't think he'll mind just this once. It would be awful if you got in trouble within the first month!" I explained that all in a rush, frightened. What had I done?

Sirius smiled. "I'm glad you're concerned for my safety. It's James, isn't it?" He stepped back towards me.

"Y-yes," I stammered.

"I'm Sirius Black," he said, offering his hand. I shook it. "But call me Sirius. Where's the cloak?"

"In the trunk," I murmured.

We crept back upstairs and I carefully opened my trunk and pulled out the silvery fabric.

"That's nice," Sirius commented. "How's it work?"

"You just put it over every part of your body and that's it," I sighed, handing it to him. I was dead. I was going straight to Hell for this.

Instead of putting the cloak on himself alone, he covered me with the cloak as well. "Like this?" he asked.

"Yes, like that but why did you cover me as well?"

"Don't you have to be invisible, too?" Sirius asked, grinning.

"For what?"

"To come with me."

I was in shock. "What do you mean 'come with you'?"

"Exactly that. You didn't think I'd just run off with your cloak now without you, did you?" Sirius pulled me up with him. "Come on, I hear they got cheesecake down there."

The trip to the kitchens was unbearable. I very nearly had a heart attack from stress. I couldn't afford to get caught; my father would absolutely kill me. What if I got expelled? I learned later, of course, that sneaking out at night was no reason for expulsion, but I had only been eleven at the time. We finally reached the kitchens after a short walk and Sirius tickled the painting. "I saw one of the fifth years do it earlier today," he explained, as the painting swung to admit us. 

The kitchen was bustling with activity. A dozen or so House Elves ran this way and that way, preparing food for breakfast. Sirius removed the cloak from our heads and handed the cloak to me. 

"What are those things?" Sirius asked, pointing at a female (at least, it looked more womanly than some of the other ones) House Elf.

House Elves didn't startle me since they had been in my house since before I was born. I shrugged, "House Elves, of course."

Sirius coughed. "Well, I had never seen one before, that's all. So, where's the cheesecake being kept?"

Three House Elves squealed with delight as they ushered us to a seat and served us cheesecake. Sirius looked absolutely flustered at the attention. I laughed, "Come on, they're House Elves. This is what they do, didn't you know that?"

Sirius mumbled, "No, not really."

"'No, not really'? What did you think House Elves did?"

Sirius didn't reply right away as if debating with himself whether or not to answer my question. Finally, he answered, "Actually... actually, I had never heard of House Elves before now."

"Never?!" I asked, startled. House Elves were a part of basic knowledge in my world. It was like not knowing the sky is blue or water is wet.

"No. Just never came up, I guess."

"Are you Muggle-born?"

Sirius shook his head. Before I could ask another question, he said, "Okay, I said one honest thing about myself, now it's your turn."

I shuddered. What would he ask? I didn't want to say something--something stupid to Sirius Black. It would kill me.

"What do you have against us Gryffindors?"

I blinked at him in shock. "Huh?"

"Well," Sirius replied, playing with his cheesecake, "you never talk to anyone. Are you mad that you didn't get to be with your pure-blood friends that wound up in Slytherin or something? Everyone's got a theory."

"'Friends'? What friends?"

"Uh... Malfoy... Parkinson... you know, the pure-bloods."

"I hate them! I hate them all!"

My words rattled in the kitchen. For years I had thought those words but had never uttered them. Alone with only my tears to console me, those words had repeated in my skull. Now, it was out in the open and the air seemed warmer.

"Geez, I thought all pure-bloods would be best buddies. Those Slytherins seem like great pals."

"Not to me," I answered. I told him of the taunts and cold stares. How they laughed at my ideas and pushed me down just because they could; made him understand the past eleven years of my life. They had made me shrink until I succeeded in disappearing.

"So, that's what you were doing--disappearing. You thought we'd treat you the same way?" Sirius remarked.

I nodded and Sirius smiled. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"You do?" Bright, popular Sirius Black was an outcast?

"Yeah. My neighbourhood isn't very fond of me either. But, see, I was lucky. I knew the two wisest people in the world. They told me not to disappear; that those kids didn't matter in the long run."

"Who are the two wisest people?" I asked.

Sirius laughed, like it was obvious. "My aunt Clarissa is the wisest and her friend, Elliot, is the second wisest but he's the most knowledgeable." Sirius went back to his cheesecake. "Elliot reads all the time. He has a million books and he's read them all. He taught me to read. Aunt Clarissa just knows all the important stuff--real-life stuff; true stuff. Everything about love, death, people; everything. She knows the truth about it. So, I'm just lucky."

"What are your parents like?" I asked, digging into my neglected cheesecake.

Sirius frowned slightly. "I don't know. They died."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't've asked."

Sirius waved me off. "Don't worry about it. It was an accident. Could happen to anyone. Aunt Clarissa tells me that they were astronomers, which is why I'm named Sirius. Really big on stars and planets. They're up with them now, watching over me." Sirius paused in reflection over his parents. He didn't seem too saddened by their deaths; I saw more of a longing in his eyes. Maybe he believed they were truly happy with the stars. "So, what are your parents like?"

"Parents."

"That doesn't help me, James."

"I don't know what to tell you. My mother is kind and considerate and my father does the proper thing all the time. They're proud of me and want me to be Head Boy."

"I think you could do it," Sirius interrupted. "I glanced at your notes during one of the lectures. You take great notes."

"I'm not that good, Sirius."

"Whatever you say, James."

Since Sirius had proven himself to be open to questions, I asked, "So, where do you live?"

Sirius' fork hovered over his cheesecake and his face paled. "Around."

"That doesn't help me, Sirius," I replied, mimicking Sirius.

"You know, in a town with people. Around."

"Hogsmeade?"

"No."

I finally weaseled out of him the name of his town. 

"You live in Quesera?!" I repeated after hearing the foul name. Quesera, also known as 'Recluse Proper,' was the home of the trash of the Wizarding World. Squibs, drug-addicts, prostitutes, and criminals made their shabby homes in that lame excuse for a city. Generations of Ministers had tried to fix the problem of Recluse Proper but the grime on the street wouldn't wash away and the people were dirty, through and through.

Or, at least, that what I always had been told before. There was no possible way Sirius Black could come from that hellhole!

"You got to be joking! Only drug addicts and Squibs live in Recluse Proper, not decent..."

Sirius cut me off, "Of course! That's what everyone thinks! Do you know you're the first person at Hogwarts I've even told that to? But everyone forgets that decent people do live there. People like Elliot and my aunt. Like me."

I didn't say anything. That was the first time that something my father had said was discovered to be wrong. Everything changed.

Sirius took my silence to mean disapproval. "Fine. Be that way. Every decent person does that in the end. No one wants to deal with Quesera trash."

"Don't go," I said as Sirius rose. "I didn't understand. I mean, how you were to know that I didn't like the pure-bloods and how am I supposed to know that Quesera isn't a breeding ground for evil. It's just perspective in the end, isn't it? Some people just won't let those stupid ideas go. People are stupid."

"Yeah, people are stupid," Sirius replied. He then whispered, "Like those pure-bloods you know. Really stupid." He smiled. "I won't let them do that anymore. I won't let you disappear."

Thus began our friendship. Through Sirius' influence, I did become bolder and more independent. Yes, I did rebel. I guess I refused to let myself disappear again, just as Sirius promised.

Three months before Lily got pregnant, Clarissa died. The coroner said that she most likely tripped on the stairs and hit her head, which caused internal bleeding. Unlike my parents and me, Clarissa and Sirius had been extremely close and her death severely broke him. Clarissa was the only family he had besides the Blacks, who don't really count.

The history of Clarissa and Sirius is an odd one. Sirius Black was from a well-respected Wizarding family with two astronomers as parents. His parents married right out of Hogwarts but when their marriage began to fall apart, they thought a baby would fix the problem. The baby turned out to be Sirius, but the marriage was still failing. His parents decided that a divorce was necessary. The day they went to discuss the legal matters, they left the then six-year-old Sirius in the care of his mother's sister, Clarissa. 

When they were Apparating back, an errant car with a drunk driver at the wheel struck them, resulting in the couple to be chopped in half, leaving Sirius an orphan. According to their wills, they named Clarissa as the guardian of Sirius if anything should happen to them. The Black family thought that Clarissa was unfit to raise Sirius, but their real motive for concern was that they wanted Sirius' inheritance. A legal battle ensued.

In one way, the Black family was correct: Clarissa was mentally-damaged. Soon after the reign of Grindelwald, a madman called Evan Guildenstern came up with a "brilliant" theory about the Cruciatus Curse. He believed that the innocent would not be affected. Not merely innocent in a legal sense but completely pure and untarnished, like a baby. The number of Cruciatus Curse victims were pretty high after the reign and he wanted to prevent more tragedies. Like vaccination, he believed, if people had the Crucio performed on them while they were still "innocent", they would be immune to the curse and no one would be hurt ever again. It was a nice theory but it had a bunch of holes in it, I don't know the details. Anyway, his theory was dismissed by his contemporaries and rather than accepting the fact, he went renegade and kidnapped countless babies and toddlers to experiment on them. This scheme lasted for a year until he was finally retrieved by the authorities. According to reports, he was completely bonkers and he got a one-way ticket to Azkaban.

However, the damage he had inflicted on the babies was devastating. The curse causes brain damage after prolonged exposure so the babies were damaged beyond repair. One of these babies just happened to be the infant Clarissa, later to be Sirius' aunt. Clarissa was lucky in the sense that she was the newest and had the least damage. The bad news was that she was still heavily injured. While most of the parents resigned themselves to sending their children to St. Mungo's, the Tapps, Clarissa's family, went against popular advice and raised her at home. Clarissa never reached an intelligence level above a toddler and never attended Hogwarts, but Janet, Sirius' mother, was never ashamed of her sister and both Janet and Roger, Sirius' father, believed that Clarissa could lead a normal life like everyone else, regardless of her brain damage.

Unfortunately, not everyone else agreed with Sirius' parents' evaluations. Clarissa called on Elliot Turner to help her since she knew that if Sirius went with the Black Family, she would never see him again. Elliot called his brother, Lawrence, to serve as her lawyer for a discounted fee. As the story goes, at the end of the first day of court, little Sirius ran up to his uncle on the Black family side to show him a picture he had drawn during the case. The uncle rudely shoved Sirius away, telling him not to show him such pointless rubbish. Heart-broken, he went up his aunt Clarissa. Without any prompt, she gleefully admired his drawing and told him how wonderful he was. Lawrence watched the whole affair and decided two things. One, to not let such a horrible man win the custody of a little boy. Two, that he deemed it personal and no longer required payment. He fought for her case and won custody for her for free.

But if nothing else, Clarissa taught Sirius how to make a nice cup of tea to drink when one was upset, which Sirius was preparing when I Apparated to his home.

The flat Sirius lived in was not a disgrace but it wasn't the Ritz. It was a three-room with a bathroom with little furniture or food, which was alright keeping mind that only one man lived there. Sirius, from his experience in Recluse Proper, knew how to make small amounts of supplies make fantastic living conditions.

I flopped down on the sagging couch and rolled my head on the back of the couch, closing my eyes. "Hello, Sirius."

"Hi, James. You look like crap."

"Thank you, Sirius. I feel like it."

"You're an open book, James." I heard Sirius leave the kitchen and enter the sitting room. "Are you going to fall asleep on my couch?"

"I might," I replied, smiling. My smile quickly faded as reality snapped back into place. "Hey, do you have anything to drink besides tea?"

"Such as?" Sirius asked.

"An adult drink, Sirius."

"As opposed to a pre-pubescent drink?"

I raised my head to look at Sirius. "You know what I mean." Sirius turned to his little writing desk and picked up a letter. He read, " 'Dear Sirius, James is having some problems but he won't tell me what. He even went as far as to try to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Please find out what's wrong with him. Remus. P.S. If you value your life and eardrums, do not give James any alcohol. Lily was not pleased to find James at my house.' " 

I felt my face getting hot as Sirius placed the letter back down. "So, that's why you were going to call," I asked.

"Yeah."

"Leave it to Remus to tattle on me."

"Leave it to Remus to notice that James Potter is suddenly a heavy drinker overnight." Sirius' smile faded. "Hell, even I could figure that out without the letter when your first request is for a drink."

"I've had a really awful week, okay?" I mumbled, burying my face in my hands.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "Who hasn't? Go on, tell me all about it."

"Well, on Saturday, we found out that Lily's pregnant..." 

Sirius melodramatically put his hand over his heart and moaned, "Oh, Merlin! What a world! Lily is going to have your kid! How terrible! Of course, your wife having a baby would ruin your week!"

"I'm not done!" I shouted, feeling a little angry at Sirius' reaction.

"I thought babies were good things."

"They are but the rest of the week is much worse." I then related the epic of my week and as the story went by, Sirius became less and less comical. 

After relating Lily's near destruction of our house, Sirius said, "Yeah, you did have a bad week."

"Someone believes me," I joked.

"But drinking isn't going to help you."

I sighed, "I know."

At that moment, the kettle sang and Sirius went to brew the Tapp Family's Secret Tea Recipe. He refused to tell anyone how it was brewed or what it was made from, but it had a magical effect of calming the nerves and clearing the head. That, and it cleared the sinuses, which was nice.

I sat in the sitting room, alone with my thoughts when courtesy struck me. "Sirius, how's work?"

"I wouldn't know. I got fired."

I jumped up from the couch. "What?! Again?!"

Sirius has the most annoying tendency to get fired for rather silly reasons quite frequently. After Hogwarts, Sirius could never seem to hold on to a job. At best, the workplace ran out of business. At worst, he was thrown out the window (yes, that happened).

"It wasn't my fault."

"What happened this time?"

Sirius nearly ran into me as he rushed to explain his case to my face. "Look, you agree with me that it's cold this winter, right?"

"Right."

"When it's cold, humans need heat, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, I'm working in the Mr. Gallagher's store with this thin stick that calls herself a woman with a family in freezing temperatures. I can manage but the girl is shivering to death. Weeks pass and we both reason out that Mr. Gallagher will understand that we need more heat in the room but he doesn't."

"I can see where this is going, Sirius," I replied.

"But you have to admit that he was being inhumane. Of course, the weather is getting worse and now I'm feeling uncomfortable. Well, enough was enough so I asked him if we could more wood in the fireplace."

"Why do I have the feeling you didn't ask very nicely?" I interrupted. Sirius wasn't a tactful person and often acted before he thought.

"You shouldn't because I did. Anyway, he just explodes at me like I was asking him to build a palace for us. To make a long story short, he fired me and that young girl is probably dead from hypothermia."

"Your week was awful, too."

"You mean last week. I got fired last week. I'm nearly broke, too," Sirius said softly. In silence, we went to check on our cups of tea and returned with them to the sitting room, both absorbed in our own thoughts. 

It was terrible that Sirius lost his umpteenth job but, I admitted guiltily, I was more concerned about Lily's safety. What was I going to do when I was at work? How will Lily protect herself when she can't even perform magic properly, not to mention how she might not be able to move at the later stages of pregnancy? I wished I could watch her, protect her.

Maybe it was God. Maybe it was the intervention of my father or Sirius' aunt Clarissa. Whatever it was, at that moment, a ray of sunlight illuminated Sirius' face. An angel choir sang as I picked up the thought that would produce the stone to kill a lot of birds.

Here was a man without a job. Here was a man that needed money. Here was a man that was my best friend. Here was a man who could hold his own in a fight, turn into a fierce dog if the need arose. I needed a man without a job. I needed a man who would protect my wife without making moves on her. I needed a man that could hold his own in a fight. 

I also had money to spare.

I knew very well that Sirius would not borrow money for any reason. But if I gave him a job, I could pay him money rather than give him money. If the task happened to scratch my back, what harm would be done?

"Sirius? You don't have a job, right?"

Sirius set his cup down. "Fired means no job, James. I know it's a foreign concept but yes, I have no job."

"Would you like a job?"

Sirius laughed. "No, of course not! I want to be kicked out on to the streets and starve! It's fun!" Sirius sobered up. "Yes, James. There are no jobs to be had."

"Not true."

"For Head Boys maybe."

I shook my head, grinning. This was perfect. "What if I gave you a job?"

Sirius stared at me in utter disbelief. "Where?"

"At my house."

"I'm not a House Elf."

"I didn't say you were." I explained to Sirius about my anxiety about leaving Lily as an open target as well as my desire for someone to at least help Lily prepare for the baby's arrival while I'm at work. 

"So, I'm babysitting your wife."

"Exactly. You'll be a surrogate me."

"A surrogate you?" Sirius chuckled. "You're insane."

I leaned in close. "Look, Sirius, this will serve both of us. I know for a fact you won't accept money from me but lucky for you, I need you to do something which I am willing to pay you for. You get money, Lily gets protection. We're both happy. I'm not asking you because you don't have a job, I'm asking because you're my friend and I know you can do this." 

Sirius closed his eyes in thought (a rare event to behold, Sirius thinking) as I stared at him. Sirius opened his eyes and looked down at me. "Fine. I'll be a body guard. Let's make the arrangements."

To be continued...

Author's Notes: Bonus points for anyone who can guess the significance that the names Elliot and Lawrence have to me. Review or e-mail at destinplot@lycos.com please!


	5. Family Ties

Disclaimer: All people and places are property of J. K. Rowling. 

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Five: Family Ties

When I had worked out the details with Sirius about his "job", I returned to my house. The next part of my master plan was to not make it look like Sirius was protecting Lily from evil psycho Death Eaters; we were doing Sirius "a favor". I also had to make it look like it was her idea and I just happened to read her mind through some psychic link.

So, I returned home (sober, thank you for asking) and found Lily sulking on the couch, staring at our fireplace with a vengeance. Something was wrong.

"Lily? How did it go?" I asked meekly. She turned her face towards me, a huge frown on her face. "Is everything okay?"

"Petunia's pregnant," she growled.

"Oh," I replied dumbly. 

Lily threw her arms back in mock laziness. "Been pregnant for simply _ages_! Isn't that _delightful_! Our children will almost be like _twins_! Isn't that just _swell_?" Lily clutched a cushion in fury.

"How far along is she?" I asked then instantly regretted it when I saw Crookshanks go flying across the room behind her.

Her eyes flashing, she answered, "Two months along!" She mimicked her mother, "'Did I forget to tell you? You know I don't understand that owl post business. Vernie and your sister are _so _excited! This is just wonderful how both my little girls are having children at the same _time_! Aren't you happy for Petty, Lily?'" She reverted back to her natural voice, "Oh, yeah, I'm thrilled that Petunia got pregnant before I did." She started to wail from fury, "She stole my thunder! That was my special thing and she ruined it!"

I sat down beside her, and rubbed circles in her back. "It's okay, Lily."

She wasn't really listening to me. "It's _always_ Petunia, Petunia, Petunia. It's always her first and me last! Just because she was born first, it doesn't mean she has to beat me to _every little thing_! Why did she have to be pregnant first? Now, no one's going to all excited for our little one because their little one will be getting all the attention! That happened during our wedding too! She deliberately planned to have her wedding before mine so everyone would compare! Now my baby is going to be constantly compared to their kid for the rest of its life, just as it was for me and Petunia. I swear, she did this on purpose!"

"Lily," I said calmly, pulling her into an embrace, "aren't you being a touch irrational?"

"No," she mumbled. 

"I seriously doubt Petunia planned this all out. She's not that intelligent. Neither is Vernon. Besides, who cares if Petunia and Vernon beat us? It's like Quidditch; catching the Snitch doesn't always win the game."

"How is this like Quidditch?"

"Simple. Okay, they'll have this baby but look at its parents! Yes, people will compare but they'll be comparing their baby to ours. 'Why can't you be like Aunt Lily's kid? Why can't you be as smart or pretty or athletic or magical or perfect as theirs, hm?'" 

Lily giggled. "Yeah, ours is going to be perfect, isn't it?"

"Perfect."

"Mm-hm." Lily nodded. "I feel better now. How was Sirius?"

Funny you should ask, my darling wife. "Oh, he got fired again."

"Again? What now?"

"He complained about the lack of heat so he got fired."

"Oh, Sirius, the poor thing," Lily sighed. "I'm sure he's very upset."

Time to reel her in. "Yeah. He doesn't think he'll be able to find another job."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll find one."

"But not before his money runs out."

"Runs out? How much money does he have?"

"Well, he didn't say that in so many words but his food supplies are dangerously low. And his rent is due soon."

"That's just awful! What's he going to do? I wish there was something we could do…"

"If only Sirius could find a job, but I'm stumped."

Come on, Lily. This is an easy one. Think.

"What if…? No… he'll never use his parents' money…" Lily sighed. "And he'll never take charity from any of us."

"If only we could offer him a job, then it wouldn't be charity, would it?" I suggested then shook my head, "But, no, that's silly, forget it…"

"Wait! James, that's brilliant!"

"What is?"

"That was what I just thinking! We could offer Sirius a job! This is perfect. I'll need someone to help me out and you have to work all day. We could just hire Sirius to help me out. He could even live here in the meanwhile! He's strong enough to lift heavy objects and he could help decorate the baby's room. He could do a million things while you're out!"

"Lily," I said, "you're a genius. I would have never thought of that. Why don't I contact Sirius now?" Lily nodded and got up.

"I'll start dinner. Sirius should come tomorrow, so he can pack tonight."

I waited for Lily to busy herself with pots and pans while I called Sirius to inform him that our plan had worked and he was expected the next day.

*** ***

I went to work the next day with no word on whose body parts I found. By the time I came home, Sirius had already settled in. Lily had decided to let Sirius sleep on the proposed baby's room on a cot so the room would be "lived in". He was also serving a hapless tester of the room's conditions, whether Sirius liked it or not.

When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Lily eating a bagel with butter on it. Sirius was also sitting at the table but his head buried in his arms. 

"Hello, Lily," I said as I kissed her, "What's wrong with him?"

"He doesn't like my choice of food," Lily explained.

"You call that food? I wouldn't," Sirius voice explained.

"I'll try a bit," I remarked. Lily tore off a bit and handed it to me as Sirius groaned, "Ugh, I wouldn't."

I ate the piece of bagel but I noticed that the butter had an awful taste. I swallowed it but my head shivered at the unpleasant taste. "There's something wrong with that butter," I gurgled.

"It's not butter," Lily answered calmly, still eating it.

"What? Then what is it?"

"Mayonnaise."

"Mayonnaise? On a bagel?" I demanded, trying to wash the taste out with water from the sink.

"It's got protein!" Lily replied. Sirius began to shake with silent laughter.

"I told you not to eat it," Sirius commented, looking up. 

"You could have said why."

"You could have asked first." 

Lily had finished her bagel and said without missing a beat, "I'm still hungry."

"What disgusting concoction are you going to eat now?" Sirius asked.

"It was good!"

"Mayonnaise on a bagel?" He returned.

"I want some potatoes!" Lily decided, ignoring Sirius' sigh of relief.

"That sounds good," I answered and Sirius' head went down into his arms again as he said, "Sure. I like potatoes."

The dinner passed without too much incident. It could have been a simply marvelous evening if there hadn't been a knock on the door.

While Sirius was in the middle of telling an experience at Mr. Gallagher's, there was a knock on the door. Conversation ceased. Knocks on the door had become frightening events because of the Reign of Lord Voldemort.

Yes, I said it. Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort.

Anyway, I slowly got to my feet. Everyone was silent. I held my breath. The visitor knocked again. I gulped. I crossed into the receiving hall and opened the door, my right hand going into the pocket of my robes for my wand.

"Are you Mr. Potter?" a wizard in an Auror uniform inquired. I relaxed slightly. 

"Yes, I am."

"Is this a bad time?"

Behind me, I heard Lily and Sirius rummaging around in order to clean up.

"No, we just finished dinner."

"I need to take you with me."

"Will I be long?"

"I cannot say for sure." I nodded. The Auror grabbed my shoulder and Apparated us both away.

*** ***

I clearly identified my new locale as St. Mungo's Hospital. My mother was sitting on a cold-looking chair in what I assumed was a waiting room. Frank Longbottom was waiting at her side. Suddenly, I knew. I shivered. I didn't want to have proof. I wanted to be paranoid. I wanted my father to be, I don't know… in Peru by an Apparation mistake or something. Not this. Never this.

"James," my mother implored me, her eyes red. I went towards her. She seemed to have aged centuries. She appeared weak, trembling, and fragile. Her hand seemed like powder in mine. Longbottom nodded at us and we followed him. My mother could barely walk on her own. We were led through countless hallways. It was so surreal, so quiet, so peaceful. 

We were finally led down a hall with a sign reading, "Dark Arts Activity Related Injuries and Deaths". My mother let out a sharp, ringing wail that died quickly. We passed by other corridors branching off from ours, "Emergency", "Curse Therapy", "Mental Health Residential Area", countless others, and finally we turned into "Morgue". 

My mother gripped my sleeve tighter. I felt a bit dizzy. There was a strange buzzing my ears. Longbottom, cool as anything, stopped in front of an iron door. He pressed a button and the doors slid open. My mother sounded like she was choking on her tears. He led us inside. There were two chairs in the room. And a table. A single, ordinary table with sanitary paper covering it. My father's remains, correction: the remains of his remains since it was clear that parts were missing, were arranged on the table.

"We tried to assemble his remains," Longbottom explained, "in a human form. However, as you can tell, some areas of his body we were unable to locate."

My mother wailed. I stepped towards the mass on the table as Longbottom made my mother sit in a chair. The bones were missing, I noticed, making my father's body floppy and loose. They also had taken a part of his upper arm, a chunk of his thigh, both of his wrists, nine of his fingers, one ear, one eye, and half of his nose. The Death Eaters had not been satisfied with merely killing him. They had sought to humiliate him as well. 

"Harold, Harold," my mother moaned, in tears. I turned my attention to a pile of bloody mess near my father's head. Pointing to it, I asked, shaking, "What is that?"

"That… is your father's internal organs." My mother screamed in pain when she looked up to see what I had been inquiring about.

"His heart... his lungs… everything… Harold! Oh, God, Harold!" My mother ran to the table, throwing herself on my father's remains. "Don't leave me here! Don't leave me!" 

"They just... mashed his organs together? Like potatoes?" Longbottom nodded. Wishing strongly that I hadn't had potatoes beforehand, I patted my mother's shoulder. 

"If only… if only…" my mother cried, "I hadn't asked him to go to Diagon Alley for more Communication Powder! We had enough for another day! I should have gone myself! He would have never been there!"

"Mother, it's not your fault," I said. No, I thought, it's mine. Mine and mine alone.

"Harold! My dear Harold!" My mother's words dissolved into frantic sobs. I couldn't bear to look at her but I couldn't turn my eyes away from my father's… body wasn't even the proper term. 

"How did you identify him?" I choked out.

"Finger prints from the remaining finger. I believe the Death Eaters clearly wanted him identified and his death known." Longbottom expression darkened. "I believe that they enjoy the reaction more than the kill sometimes. Especially with a family like yours." My mother screamed and sobbed behind me. I could do nothing except stand there, my arms at my sides, and watch my mother cry. 

It was three hours before my mother had worn herself out. We discussed funeral arrangements briefly, deciding that cremation was best. I would be in charge of scattering the ashes over the ocean. My father, I learned, couldn't swim but had always wanted to learn how. "So envious he was," my mother explained tearfully, "you took to water like you were born in it. He loved the ocean but he always had to watch it from afar." 

"Mother, will you get home all right?" I asked, standing outside the hospital. 

"Yes, I don't want to bother you, Lily must be waiting for you. I received your owl," she smiled briefly and continued, "Congratulations. Your father... would have been very pleased." She sniffled and broke out into tears. "Your birth gave him so much joy," she stuttered. I hugged her awkwardly, letting her cry. The wind moaned quietly around us and blew softly, as if not wanting to interrupt. "I must be going, James," she said. 

I pulled myself away, feeling embarrassed. Public affection was never big in our family. 

"Yes," I agreed. Then with a final glance, I Apparated. 

*** *** 

Lily and Sirius were sitting in the living room, obviously waiting up. Sirius was bent over on the couch, taking up the full length of it, doing a crossword and Lily was flipping through a catalog of baby furniture in the overstuffed chair. 

"Sirius, what do you think of...?" Lily started but saw me and said, "James? What happened?" 

Sirius lifted his head. I walked over to the couch and sank into it beside Sirius. At the same time, he lifted his legs to the floor and sat up straight, tossing the crossword to one side. "You okay?" 

I shook my head but said nothing. My vision was blurring. There were no words to express it. 

Lily practically dove over and Sirius rolled off the couch like they had rehearsed this. I leaned into her shoulder, glad to have someone to care. My mother was completely alone. I opened my mouth to speak but only a gargle came out. Lily shushed me, saying, "Don't say anything. There's nothing to discuss." 

There was silence except for the foul, haunting wind crying outside. 

To Be Continued. 

Author's Notes: This was short! I'm shocked! I'm writing this on my brand-new computer! Yay! It took forever to write this, you know. Almost did what Rowling said she was going to do with chapter nine ( I think) in GoF in an interview, just post "This bit was too hard. Use your imagination. Here's chapter six". But I got it down. It's high time for a review, pal! I have to prove to myself that I'm terribly lame. Tell me how stupid my story is with either a review button or e-mailing me at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya! 


	6. A Serious Affair

Disclaimer: All people and places are property of J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Six: A Serious Affair

It was mid-December. Frost had settled on the ground and grief had settled on my heart. A week after my father's body was found, we held the memorial service for him and I alone scattered his ashes over the ocean. I never really knew my father and now I never would. Sirius kept to himself and did whatever odds and ends Lily forced him to do. Sirius, despite appearances, has a great deal of compassion and respect for the dead. 

On one particular morning, I found Sirius outside, working on his motorcycle. Sirius loved that motorcycle. I swear, his flat could catch on fire and he'd rush back to get his motorcycle. It was a gigantic machine that only Sirius seemed able to manage. Furthermore, Sirius had enchanted his beloved to fly at the press of a button. Like all wizarding vehicles, the seat and carrying compartment expanded to fit any object. As Sirius worked manually (he never used magic on it. Said it would "ruin the quality") on his bike, a heat barrier surrounded him to keep him warm. Yawning, I stepped into the circle and sighed as the heat rushed at me. 

"Hey, James," Sirius greeted, not looking away from whatever whatisit he was fiddling with. 

"Morning, Sirius. What are you doing?"

"Oh... just taking out the muffler."

"Why? Is it broken?"

"Not really."

"So, why remove it?"

"Because it works."

I didn't say anything for a minute. I answered, "You're taking it out because it works?"

"Precisely."

"But don't you need the muffler?"

"Usually."

"Doesn't taking out the muffler make the bike really, really loud?"

Sirius finally looked up and smiled a mischievous grin. "Yes, it does."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that wedding of your cousin's, would it?"

Sirius turned back to the muffler. "Hm, what gives you that idea?"

"They'll kill you, Sirius," I warned.

"They'll kill me anyway. I might as well have fun with them first."

I believed I've mentioned the Blacks, Sirius paternal side of the family. There is one thing I believe I forgot to mention: Sirius hates the Blacks and they hate him.

*** ***

Long ago, there were seven Black children. The youngest was Roger, Sirius' father. Roger was always a kind of rebel and went against the accepted norms of the other relatives. However, his parents loved him just the same. In the siblings' eyes, he was the favorite and that fact enraged them. They found any excuse to prove him less worthy of the Black name but their efforts accomplished nothing. Again and again, Roger did the unexpected and received praise from his parents. 

Eventually, as you know, Roger and his wife, Janet, died, leaving young Sirius as their only trace of existence. When the Blacks had failed to gain custody, and thus his inheritance, the family lashed out against Sirius. The cousins also noticed that Sirius seemed to be the favorite grandchild and turned against him, according to their parents' wishes. No matter what problem arose, somehow, someway, Sirius became the scape goat.

Two months after we had first entered Hogwarts, Remus observed that three other students had the last name Black and joked that maybe they were all related. Sirius, quite innocently, informed us that all three were his cousins. We were astonished because none of them had welcomed him or even waved in the halls.

"It's okay," he explained, "we haven't really seen each other since I was really little."

"Why don't you say hello, then?" I suggested.

"No, it's no big deal."

"When we pass them, you can say it. It'll take ten seconds."

Sirius agreed but looking back, I think he was only humoring us. When we passed the fifth-year cousin, Henry Black, Sirius quickly waved his hand and called, "Hi, Henry!"

Henry continued his conversation with his two friends.

"Try again," Peter said, "maybe he just didn't hear you."

Sirius sighed. "He's busy, it's okay."

"Come on, it's family!"

Again, Sirius waved and called, "Nice to see you, Henry!"

Henry gave Sirius the fish-eye but did not wave or even smile. Sirius shrugged and said quietly, "Ah, well." I saw Remus frown and Peter looked perplexed.

I was bitterly angry. Lucius Malfoy beating me up was one thing but to have a family member completely ignore Sirius, the coolest guy I had ever met, was a whole other issue. I was furious on Sirius' behalf, since he didn't seem to have the strength to be indignant. 

"Hey!" I shouted, "Your cousin was speaking to you!"

Henry and his two friends stopped cold, turned around and looked at me in surprise. A crowd had gathered around us and several first years' jaw dropped: they had never heard me speak before.

Sirius touched my shoulder. "It's no big deal. Let's get going."

I shrugged him off, glaring at the fifth-years. "When someone is addressing you," I lectured, sounding very much like my father, "the proper action to _respond_."

"James, get over it. I'm fine. Let's go outside," Sirius pleaded. 

I took a step forward. "Are you hard of hearing? Your cousin said 'hello'. Say something back."

The friend to Henry's right muttered, "Who the hell is this kid?" Henry shrugged.

"James, come on," Sirius begged, pulling at my sleeve. I took another step forward. 

"I am Sirius Black's friend, that's who I am! And he just greeted you so answer him!"

Henry looked over my head. I turned my head around to follow his line of vision. In the crowd were the other Blacks: Dominick Black, a sixth-year, and Gabrielle Black, a fourth-year. They shrugged in unison. I turned back to stare at Henry's stomach. He glanced down at me and crouched to look me in the face.

"Look, kid, don't get involved in things you don't understand, okay?"

I punched him in the face.

The next thing I knew, I felt a flying sensation as one friend lifted me up by the shoulders. The other reared his fist back behind his head, screaming, "You little stuck-up ba..." In a flash, it was black.

I woke up an hour later in the hospital wing. Sirius was sitting in a chair beside me. I had a pounding headache.

"Sirius?"

"Yup?"

"Where are my glasses?" He handed them to me and I put them on. He had a very odd expression on his face. "Did I get him?"

"You didn't even give him a nose bleed," Sirius answered quietly. 

"Oh."

"You punch like a girl."

"Well, thank you!" I shouted, sitting up, "I was trying to defend your honor!"

"But it didn't bother me so there was really no point, was there?"

"He ignored you."

"So? I haven't seen him in years, James. I don't even really like him all that much."

"He's your cousin!"

"James," Sirius looked solemn, as if he was about to reveal that there was no Father Christmas, "there are some things you just can't understand."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't understand it either."

I sat in silence. Pouting, I answered, "What about all that talk about standing up for myself? You do the same thing!"

"Nope. I ignore it. It doesn't bother me. It doesn't hurt me," Sirius shrugged. "I've learned that they don't matter. You, on the other hand, did not receive such sage advice. Those kids hurt you. That's going to stop."

"But..."

"My family doesn't hurt me. I barely notice they're there." Madame Pomfrey then bustled in and told me that I could leave. As we headed towards the Gryffindor Common Room, Sirius smiled and said, "And another thing, James. Leave the fist-fights to me. You can't afford getting in trouble. The trick of the game is to have revenge but not get caught yourself. Me, on the other hand, is another story."

That was our friendship in a nutshell. Sirius was my buffer. I'd go off and play pranks and Sirius made sure all the evidence pointed back to himself and away from me. It was same for Remus and Peter. Sirius always took the fall if he could. Later, as I grew more confident, I was more open about my pranks but, in the end, it looked like Sirius was evil ringleader and I was just along for the ride. People are so naive. 

*** ***

Sirius continued to fiddle with his muffler. He seemed very uncomfortable as well.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Well..."

"What?"

"Can I... ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"You'll be honest?"

"Yes."

"Swear?"

"Yes, of course."

"Because I need you to be..."

"Sirius! Ask the goddamned question!"

Sirius jumped slightly. He grunted. I coughed. He sighed. I clicked my tongue. Finally, he said, "I've been thinking about this baby..."

"Yeah?" 

"Well... this baby and all... it's not..."

"An alien? A doll? What?"

"Compensating for something..." Sirius inquired, looking up like a child asking if his beloved dead pet toad was _really_ dead, "is it?"

At first, I had no idea what he meant. Then it hit me: His parents. 

"Sirius!" I rolled my eyes. "Our relationship is _fine_. Give me some credit."

"James, I'm living proof of a failed marriage."

"Sirius, we're okay. Nothing is going wrong."

"You sure?"

"Yes," I replied wearily.

"Well, I'm concerned."

"I know."

"I don't want anything to happen."

"I know."

Thunk. The motorcycle had whelped the muffler. The discussion was closed.

People might think it strange that Sirius was concerned. Surely, he was more confident than that? But, the truth is, he wasn't.

Believe or not, he opposed my wedding.

*** ***

It was the end of my seventh year, right before we were going to take our N.E.W.T.s, when I had decided. My mind was made up, I was going to ask for Lily's hand in marriage. With the Dark Lord rising up and the body count starting to rise (funny, we thought it couldn't get worse), there was a feeling of Carpe Diem in the air. Live life today because there might not be a tomorrow. I loved Lily and I was certain she loved me. 

I wanted it to be special. An event she would never forget for the rest of her life. So, one night, as we four labored over textbooks, I told them of my plans to ask Lily.

"That's great!" Peter said. 

"Excellent! You'll be very happy," Remus added.

"Too bad for Lily, huh?" Peter joked.

"Yeah, really, poor thing," Remus replied, chortling.

I swatted them on the heads. "Come on, guys, be serious!"

"I'm Remus," Remus responded.

"And I'm Peter!"

Speaking of Sirius, he hadn't said a word this whole time. Rather than looking pleased or excited, he looked downright angry. He was frowning darkly and staring straight at his textbook. "Sirius? Something wrong?"

"He's just upset that you'll abandon him, right, Sirius?" Peter drawled. 

"She's not moving him to Tibet, you know," Remus explained. "He'll see us again."

Still, Sirius said nothing. 

"Maybe he's in shock?" Peter suggested.

Sirius slammed his book shut with a bang. Okay, so he wasn't in shock. He glared hotly at all three of us in turn, ending on my face. He growled, "Am I the only one who sees the problem here?"

Remus and Peter pretended to think hard, adding a lot of "hm"s for good measure. Finally, Remus answered sagely, "Well, James loves Lily very much. We have reason to believe that Lily loves James. They are both very good-looking. They can have intelligent conversation which will help when they are no longer good-looking. They've never cheated on each other or ever wished to. James and Lily both have good chances of getting high paying jobs so they won't starve. I know for a fact that James has been looking at real estate and now I know precisely why. In conclusion, there are no problems."

"Thank you, Professor Remus," I said, giggling.

"You forgot something, _Professor_," Sirius answered, scathingly, "Their ages."

"Oh, they're similar in age so…" Remus began but Sirius cut him off.

"They're too young! They're kids!" Sirius replied angrily. "I can't believe you of all people didn't think of that."

"Look who's talking! You're the same age!" I answered.

"I'm not getting married, am I? Even if I did have a girlfriend, I wouldn't ask her now."

"Sirius," Peter groaned, "You're making a big fuss over how old they are?"

"It's a very legit reason! They're too bloody young!"

"Sirius, don't swear!" Remus barked.

"Shut up! All of you," I said, before Peter could add anything. "Sirius, so what if I'm eighteen?"

Sirius took a deep, calming breath. "You're still a kid. You have no idea what the world is like. You have no idea how to make a house run. You barely know each other. Yes, you've seen each other at school but everyone has a home face and when you share a house, you can't just run away."

"Sirius, I think you're being a bit melodramatic," Remus replied.

"My parents married a week after they left school. In Hogsmeade, in fact. Within a year, their marriage was near ruin. Six years after that, they filed for divorce. They died instead. They were twenty-four years old. They really didn't know each other and they grew apart and then they died. End of story."

"Sirius, this might be a little different…" Remus answered but Sirius snapped back, "Were you there?"

"No, of course not."

"Then shut up."

"But you weren't there either, Sirius," Peter cut in, "there could've been obvious signs from the start, signs James and Lily don't have and will never have."

"Okay," I said, "you're upset. Fine. But I'm going to ask anyway, I just wanted some ideas on how to ask."

"You're not listening to me, are you? I oppose this. I'm not helping you with this," Sirius said with anger.

"Oh, don't be difficult, Sirius," Peter whined.

"I won't be difficult. I won't be there," Sirius replied, turning back to his closed textbook.

"Well, that's settled then," I said then paused. Confused, I asked, "What do you mean 'I won't be there'?"

"It means what I said."

"Where won't you be?"

"At the wedding."

We were stunned into silence. He couldn't mean… he couldn't possibly mean… "Sirius, you can't be saying…"

"I am not going to encourage something I don't agree with. I'm boycotting your wedding. I'm boycotting your marriage."

"I was going to make you my best man!" I stammered.

"Tough. I'm not going."

"I need you there!"

"That's your problem."

We begged and pleaded with Sirius to change his mind but he wouldn't budge an inch. This was a disaster! My best friend was opposing my marriage! I thought maybe Remus would be the one to balk, not Sirius. As I laid awake that night, I pondered my predicament. Finally, I had a brilliant idea that Sirius actually went for. Remus and Peter still call it "The Great Padfoot and Prongs Compromise" like it should be in the next edition of the History of Magic textbooks. The compromise was this: I would not marry Lily right away. I would propose next year. This would allow us to grow up a little more and experience the real world and find a sense of self before uniting as a martial unit. In return, Sirius would attend the wedding without objections.

*** ***

Once he had placed his muffler in a secure and safe spot, after giving Lily a heart attack by joking that he was going to lay the oily muffler on the family room carpet (which caused a teapot to fly at him), he rode off loudly on his motorcycle wearing a pristine and crisp tuxedo, his wedding present in the compartment under the seat. Only Sirius could make a desire to be anywhere but at this wedding look like a ride into battle. That night was relatively quiet without Sirius filling the silence with noise. Lily and I bounced names off each other and went to bed.

The next morning, I awoke before Lily did. It was nice and warm under the covers and I was perfectly content to lay there all Sunday but a strange noise attracted my attention. A creak of bed springs. They weren't my bed springs obviously but rather the sound was coming from the baby's room-to-be. Then I heard mumbles. Two different mumbles: a low, deep murmur which had to be Sirius' and a softer, higher murmur which I couldn't identify. Apparently, I thought, Sirius has brought home a guest. 

There is something else you should know about me: I can really hold a grudge.

*** ***

I've told you that I started dating Lily at the end of my fifth year. What I didn't mention is that I was hopelessly, madly, blindly in love with her during the summer before fourth year. I first met Lily in the classroom. I had heard her name during the Sorting but I had never heard of the Evanses before so I assumed correctly that she was Muggle-born. During my childhood, my pureblood playmates and their older brothers and sisters told me horror stories about Muggles eating babies and kidnapping you and stealing your magic away. Muggle-born wizards and witches were slow and stupid and sneaky. Lucius told me that his father always said that the "Mudbloods" (a word my parents never, ever let me use) only were allowed to Hogwarts because people pitied them like abused dogs in the gutter. They only made it through, he added, because they cheated and tricked the teachers into giving them good grades. 

I had never met a Muggle or a Muggle-born in my life before Hogwarts so I really had to go on Lucius' word. My parents didn't go as far as hating Muggles and Muggle-borns but at the time, they really didn't think Muggle-borns could measure up to Magical-borns. They changed their minds once I introduced Lily but I'm getting ahead of myself. So, Lily sat next to me and I trembled. What if she sucked my magic away? What she cheated off me? She talked to me kindly. Correction: she talked _at_ me. I didn't talk back but this wasn't personal. I didn't talk to anyone but teachers and that was only when they called on me. 

Eventually, once I had broken out of my shell, Lily and I became great friends and academic rivals. When tests were handed back, we press them against our chest, look at them quickly and then carefully compare scores. Lily was my intellectual equal. Sure, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were great for just goofing off and doing guy things but for hour-long discussion of wand techniques, Lily was the only one. 

Around fourth year, I started noticing something odd: everyone was growing up. Sirius got fuzz in third year, he wanted to keep it but Madame Pomfrey found out and he had to shave it off. Remus started to grow like a crazy tree. Peter's voice broke. And I... still looked eleven. I had no beard, I was still short, and my voice was still squeaky. Everyone around me was growing into men and women and I was still a kid. 

No one made me feel more like a child than Lily. Perfect Lily, with her shoulder-length auburn hair and bright green eyes. She was taller than me now and had grown, uh, more asserts during the summer before fourth year. I was mesmerized. She was Aphrodite, Athena, and Artemis in one body. Everywhere she went, my eyes followed her. No matter where I was, her voice floated over to me. Lily seemed to have sucked out the vitality of the sun into her eyes for it had grown dim for me. She was food, she was water, she was air. There was nothing else. I was her slave.

Yes, I was in love. The problem was I was tortured by it. I looked at myself in the mirror and I hated the person who stared back. I saw a tiny, wimpy little eleven-year-old boy. His hair was awful, sticking out all over the place, wouldn't lay flat no matter what he did. He stared back at me with muck brown eyes behind those stupid, lame glasses. Oh, those glasses. Every day, I hated them more. If I could just get rid of these stupid, damn glasses, I told myself, she'd notice me then. Sirius didn't wear glasses and he had girls falling at his feet. I wanted to throw them out the window, hear the glasses shatter below the tower. The glasses had to go! I finally decided not to wear them one day. To make a long story short, I only ended up humiliating myself when I accidentally Transfigured my quill into a rose. 

When vanity failed, I had to content myself with my charm. Wait, what charm? Oh sure, I played pranks and made people laugh but Sirius got more laughs than I did. I noticed quickly that I was lacking that special something. Sirius was funny and confident. He was the type of boy who'd make a girl laugh and perhaps bring a little excitement into her life. Remus was a waif with such a delicate soul. Girls just wanted to mother him, feed him soup, and listen to his soft, controlled voice. Peter was the boy next door, the average boy, the one a girl can take home to Mother. He wasn't gorgeous so a girl didn't have to worry about a model stealing him away but he was pleasant to look at anyway. 

I was the odd one out. In confusion, I started to develop four separate me's: two fake and two real. The fakes were the playful, prankster James who hung around that crazy Sirius Black and the quiet, studious James who cared deeply about his grades and studied endlessly. These were what people around me saw. Even now, people will describe me as either of those two. The real me was insecure, shaky, and hopelessly in love with a girl who would never love him back. And then there was Prongs.

Prongs was my Animagus form. I remember being extremely upset when I discovered my form was a deer (although I learned later that the proper term is stag). Great, I'm Bambi, I thought. Remus was a wolf (although not by choice), Sirius was a huge, Grim-like dog, even Peter's form as a rat was useful for sneaking around in people's pockets. As I changed into Prongs more often, however, I grew to love it. I stood head and shoulders above all others. My coat was sleek and dark, my antlers, when they were grown, were bleach white and powerful. I was the epitome of quiet strength. I once gazed into a lake and saw my reflection and found myself in complete awe. As Prongs, I was confident. Prongs could do anything. I wanted to be like Prongs all the time, I wanted that quiet aura of strength.

But, as much as I wished, Prongs could not carry over into my human life. But I dreamed. I constantly daydreamed. I was always the hero in these fantasies. I saved Lily from vampires, dragons, and witch-burning Muggles. My favorite was saving her from Lucius Malfoy's insults. I'll show him someday, I always vowed. He'd say "Mudblood" and I would gallantly take out my wand and throw a spell on him, paralyzing him. Lily would swoon into my arms and look up at me with those beautiful emeralds of hers and whisper about how brave I was and I would say the most romantic mush back and she'd sigh with adoration. At night, I had my racy fantasies about Lily, like every teenaged boy does. In these, I was often caught by surprise but Lily would always be so aroused by my manliness and courage that I couldn't dare refuse whatever situation my hormones had cooked up to involve Lily and I in. Come on, I was fourteen and in love with a pretty girl, do you blame me?

Although I dreamed of terrific words to woo Lily by, I could never get the words to my mouth. The words that did make it were scrambled and made me sound like an idiot. So, I sulked and mentally kicked myself for being such a loser. Don't lie to yourself, I thought bitterly, Lily wants Remus, not you.

Yes, I was positive she wanted Remus. As I've said, girls wanted to mother him. Lily mothered him the most. Why wouldn't she want Remus? He was smart, kind, compassionate, always knew what to say in any situation, respectful, and very handsome. He looked older than fourteen, he looked so grown-up and acted like an adult. The girls went nuts over him. Who in their right mind would even consider the scrawny, child-like James Potter who keeps asking for quills to borrow if he speaks at all? The pure-bloods all said that, when they thought I wasn't listening or perhaps when they knew I was listening, I could never tell which. I was just a little boy in a room full of grown men. I'll admit it, I was terribly bitter. Here I was, my heart bleeding in my throat and she wants my friend. Sad, pathetic Remus Lupin, who is always off to visit his sick mother or grandmother or whoever. What a sweetheart, caring about his family that much! I tried very hard not to be angry with Remus. I knew the truth. His life was hell on earth. But it wasn't fair! He didn't even like her back, and that's what made it so hard. I suffered my love alone and buried my resentment of Remus' appeal down deep. Of course, it came out in my dreams, where I saved Lily a number of times from werewolves.

Until, one night, it became reality.

I truly hope it is better now at Hogwarts than it was when I was young. Back in my school days, Muggle-borns were treated as second-class citizens. It wasn't just a small group that insulted Lily and others like Lily, it was a sizable myriad of individuals. I suppose that kind of pressure would get to anyone. I knew the torment of being taunted for something I couldn't control. 

It was fifth year. I was still madly in love with Lily and still secretly bitter at Remus for supposedly having her affections. Through it all, I still had a duty to the Marauders: the moon. Every full moon, I'm ashamed to admit, we (Peter, Sirius, and I), sneaked out to the Whomping Willow, where Peter would transform and touch the knot, stilling the branches. We'd all transform then and crawl down into the tunnel and retrieve Remus when he was a werewolf and lead him back outside to wander around and explore. Oh, we thought we were very clever. With the three of us, Remus would always be in check. There were a couple of minor instances but we laughed them off. No one really was in any danger. We had no idea what would have happened if the worst had happened. We were a bunch of invincible teenagers, nothing could stop us! Oh, yes, we were a bunch of total dumbasses. 

One of these nights, we were tromping around the Forbidden Forest when something caught Moony's (we always referred to the werewolf as Moony to separate the monster from Remus) attention. Now, the purpose of the Animagi forms were to control him if anything happened. Control him, not stop him. Moony had smelled human flesh and sprinted off after the scent. We darted after him, trying to beat him to the prize.

The prize was a young fifth-year red-haired girl: Lily. Lily, for some reason, was standing around in the Forest, holding out her wand. As Moony charged towards her, she screamed. I ran in front of Moony, cutting him off and lifted Lily up by my antlers, throwing her on my back and carrying her away as Padfoot (Sirius) fought Moony into submission. 

Lily rode me to the lake and I found myself at a loss. What now? Lily was shaking on my back. "That werewolf was huge," she muttered. I grunted in response in my effort to say, "You think?" 

She patted me on the neck. "But what is a deer doing with a werewolf?" I grunted again. STAG! I'm a boy! Deers are girls! Geez, I've got antlers for Heaven's sake. "I guess it really doesn't matter. You can't understand me anyway." She patted my neck again. I trotted back to the school doors closest to the entrance to Gryffindor. I lowered my neck to allow her to dismount. She got off my back. "Thanks." She then moved to go back to the Forest. Was she nuts? I stepped in her way. She stared at me and stepped to the other side but I blocked her path. "Perhaps this is my cue to go back, huh?" I nodded. Lily gave me a funny look. "Strange. For a second there I thought you could understand me. But that's ridiculous." Lily headed back to Gryffindor Tower. The next morning, we all concerned that Lily had been in the Forest but we agreed that it was probably a fluke. She was probably terrified by the sight and will never try again.

Did she prove us wrong! The next moon, Moony caught the scent again and darted after it. Again, it was Lily, holding out her wand but this time she did not scream. However, I followed the same routine, lifting her up and racing to the lake. Again, Lily patted my neck and thanked me for saving her but still expressed surprise at my behavior. I took her back to the castle and, sighing, she returned to the Tower. The next morning, we shrugged at each other. She'll give up now, whatever the hell she's doing. But no! She came back the third moon and I had to save her _again_. 

We had enough of this nonsense. It was hard enough running around with a werewolf without worrying about him eating someone. It didn't seem like Lily had any intention of stopping. We hadn't the faintest clue why she was following us. We knew Severus Snape and Oliver Whetstone were tracking us because they were Slytherins and that House is annoying like that but this was Lily. My friends decided that since I was better friends with her and she respected me, I should be the one to tell her to stop going out on the full moon. I could just lie and pretend I saw her sneaking out for the past three months and I was concerned since there are rumors of dark creatures. Perfect plan, right?

This is going to sound weird but I was taking a little too much pleasure in saving Lily month after month. Her life was in my hands, or rather, on my back. After every rescue, she'd touch my neck and speak to me and I could have just melted on the spot. Half of me agreed with the Marauders that everyone's safety was at risk if this continued but the lovesick, selfish half wanted it to never end. I wanted to stay the hero. I tried and failed countless times to drum up the courage to bring up the subject, my two desires of loyalty and love waging battle in my soul. If I had been older, I would have been having daily ulcers. 

By the time of the fourth moon, I hadn't said a thing. Remus suggested that we not go out since I hadn't convinced Lily to stay in but Sirius insisted, "You need company and company you'll get!" The routine was the same as before. Soon after moon rise, Moony caught the scent of human flesh and gave chase. Padfoot gave me as Prongs a stern look before bounding after him. I rescued Lily, same as before. I led her to the lake.

Lily was shaking, as she always did, patting my neck as she spoke, "How strange. Every time, you save me. Don't you understand why I'm doing this? Werewolves are dangerous." You should talk, I thought back at her. She continued, "I don't understand how a deer could be friends with a werewolf. It defies logic! Maybe if I read a little more on it, I'd get it but as it is. I have to prove to everyone that I'm as much a witch as anyone else. If I manage to destroy that werewolf on my own, they will have to admit that I am a witch, just like them." I grunted angrily. All this was because Lily was tired of being called "Mudblood" by Lucius Malfoy. Why didn't this hate end? She was absolutely wonderful in every way and yet all that mattered to some people was her bloody parents! I paced angrily in the grass for a long time. 

Just before dawn, I realized that Lily had to get back to the Tower. I also noticed that Lily was being very quiet. I turned my head to look at her: she was sleeping. I stared at her slumbering form for several moments before figuring out that it was now impossible for her to dismount. I couldn't stay a stag forever! I couldn't throw her off, I'd hurt her. Maybe if I was careful, I could lay down and shake her off and then quickly Transfigure myself back and pretend I found her. Yes, that's it! I found her because I noticed her sneaking out but I didn't dare last night because it was too late and I'm concerned about her safety. Yes, that's what I'll say. 

I lowered myself down and shifted my weight. Lily rolled off my back. I stood up. The sun was peeking over the horizon. Time was short so I turned back into myself. I heard a gasp behind me. Lily was awake.

"It was you!" she exclaimed.

"Me what?"

"You were the deer that saved me. It was you all along!"

"You were dreaming!" I backed away from her. 

"I was not dreaming!" Lily got up triumphantly. "You're an Animagus!"

I was too stunned to speak. I would be expelled. There was no other alternative. I hadn't broken some silly Hogwarts rule but International Wizarding Law. How would I explain this my parents?

"I can't believe it!" Lily glared at me. "There are million things that can go wrong, James! And it's illegal! Illegal in every country!"  
"I know," I mumbled.

Her eyes shining, she breathed, "Amazing. Simply amazing."

"Yes, I know and I shouldn't've... wait, what?" I was baffled. Lily was impressed by my obvious rule breaking.

"How did you do it? Actually, better yet, why did you do it?" Lily appeared to be thinking hard but then her eyes widened. "The werewolf. Werewolves can't hurt animals, except by killing them, but if one was an Animagus, then the human part of the wolf can stay in control. It's all make sense. That's why you kept saving me! That's why you were with the werewolf in the first place! It's all so simple!"

"Lily, don't ask any more questions..."

"Who is it?"

"Does it matter?"

She ignored my pleas. "It's not you, obviously. The only likely candidates are Peter, Sirius, and Remus." She thought this over. "Can't be Peter. He's got that silver watch. Leaving Sirius and Remus..."

"Lily, it doesn't matter who it is... please, stop..."

"But Sirius stole that silver brooch once, I saw him. He must have stolen it to test it on Remus! It's Remus, isn't it?"

"Lily, please..."

"Tell me! I'm right, aren't I?"

I groaned in exasperation. "Yes, yes, it's Remus. Please, don't tell anyone."

"I wasn't going to. It explains a lot."

There was a long awkward pause. I coughed loudly as the wind blew a sharp breeze through our hair. Finally, I managed to choke out, "Lily, were you really going to destroy the werewolf?"

"Yes," Lily said, "yes, I was."

"You do realize that if you had done that, you would have killed Remus as well."

Tears came to Lily's eyes. "I know. I just realized that. I understand why you did what you did now. Oh, God, I could've killed him!" Lily hastening wiped the tears away and said, "You're a very noble friend, James. Remus is very lucky."

"I'm... glad you think so..." I stammered. We started to walk back to the Tower. As we approached the door, Lily turned to me and said, "Did you know... that deer are my favorite animals?"

"Really?" I sputtered. 

"Ever since I was little." She paused, staring into my spectacles. "Thanks for everything." Before entering, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek. 

*** ***

My goodness. What a long tangent that was. You're probably sitting there wondering when I was going to talk about the grudge. You're thinking I forgot. I haven't, don't worry, I just figured that I'd offer some background. A bit much, yes, but necessary.

I valued Lily's love very much. My parents being upstanding citizens, I couldn't afford to flaunt my physical longings for Lily. My public displays of affections were not public, confined to empty classrooms and broom closets, and never much more than light petting and even that was scandalous. Those moments were few but precious.

My sixth year, our team won the Quidditch Cup against Slytherin. The Gryffindors were euphoric over our marvelous victory. The entire Common Room was a large party. I was dating Lily at this point and we tried to have a decent conversation but there was too much noise so we headed up to the boys' dormitory. I shared my dorm with my three friends. The dorm was abandoned so Lily and I could actually speak to one another. We laid on my bed, staring up at my canopy, in silence. We could hear the party downstairs but we were separate from it, impartial.

"You were great today," Lily whispered. I was Chaser for the team, in case you're wondering. 

"Was I?"

"I was so nervous. I could barely sit still. Do I still have fingernail marks on my face?"

"No, not anymore."

"Did you and Ryan Attrape plan that last play?"

"Where I scored and he caught the Snitch in the same instant? No."

"It was flawless," Lily breathed, in awe. "Like dancing. You always look like you're dancing up there."

"I could see you in the crowd," I murmured, drawing her close. 

"What, kept thinking I was the Quaffle?"

"No. You were quite distracting, though. You always distract me." 

She pulled herself closer. Her hair smelled so good. "Was I that distracting? I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Well, I can't pay attention to the rest of the game when you fly. I didn't even know Ryan had caught the Snitch until Helena started screaming in my ear. I just kept watching you, flying up and down," Lily whispered, her finger going up and down my chest with her index finger to go with her words. I shivered. "Do you like that?"

"Yes, very much," I croaked out. I saw her glance over my shoulder. The door was closed. No one was going to miss us. She kissed me. I grabbed her hair in my fists. It was no different than any other kissing match at first. Something was born inside me that night, in that moment. I wanted... no, I _needed_ more. We became more fierce in our passions but it wasn't enough. 

My parents always preached against pre-martial sex. For a long time, I agreed with their sound advice. Annoying, I had to admit, but solid, reasonable advice. That night, I was convinced that my parents had no idea what they were talking about. 

I could barely speak. "Lily, please..."

She read my mind. "Yes."

I will spare you the gory details but let me say that I was only a button fly away from giving Lily that special hug that a mummy and daddy give each other when they love each other very much. Both of our shirts off, we stared in each other's eyes. I bent down to kiss Lily on the lips. 

The door banged open, shaking the bed posts. "Hey! James, are you...?!" It was Sirius. His voice died. Lily shoved me upwards and my hand went for my discarded glasses. His face was in utter shock, his mouth hanging open. None of us could say a word, frozen like a Muggle painting. Slowly, Sirius closed his mouth into a wicked smile. His eyes went from me, to Lily, and back to me. He crossed his arms and said, in a very amused voice, "Sorry to interrupt."

Mortified, Lily quickly scrambled for her shirt, throwing it on and buttoning it unevenly. She ran out of the room while zipping her pants back up, her face red. I heard the girls' dorm's door slam. I was still dumbstruck. Sirius was obviously forcing himself not to laugh as he said, "I was just checking on where you were."

I finally found my voice. I hissed, "Get out."

"Whoopsie!" Sirius catcalled as he shut the door behind him. I growled and sulked on my bed for the rest of the night as the party raged downstairs.

As night turned into morning, I was still in bed, although I had gotten up to dress and ready for bed, as Remus and Sirius stumbled in wearily. I kept the curtains drawn, only speaking to affirm that I was in bed when Remus asked. Ten minutes later, Peter ran in, slamming the door behind him.

"Did a hurricane hit you or something?" I heard Remus ask. 

"Something like that," Peter replied smugly. The three continued to ready themselves for bed in silence. When the light was turned off, I supposed that they were all too exhausted to discuss anything. Ten minutes later, Sirius' voice rang out, "Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Where _did_ you go?"

Remus' voice added, "You simply vanished!" There was a pause. "Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, Theresa Hearse disappeared too."

"Funny how that worked out," Sirius replied. "So, where did you get off to?"

I could _hear_ Peter smiling. "The Astronomy Tower." Remus laughed as Sirius howled in a dog-like manner.

"Peter's a man!" Sirius screamed.

"Was she good?" Remus asked seriously. He could make any subject sound as clean as a History of Magic discussion.

"Well, with as much experience as her, what do you think?" Peter answered. Sirius howled. 

I buried my head under my pillow. I growled, "Can we go to sleep now?"

"Who bit you today?" Peter snapped.

Sirius whistled innocently from his bed. "Shut up!" I hollered.

"I didn't say anything," Sirius coolly replied.

"What's the matter?" Remus asked. "Is Lily mad?"

"Can we go to sleep?" I begged. 

"Well, since Sirius obviously knows all," Peter suggested, "why doesn't he just tell us while James sleeps?" Remus laughed at that.

"_Sirius_ is not to going to say a thing because he has no right to."

There was silence. Finally, Remus drew a loud, sharp intake of breath. "Oh, I see now."

"See what?" Peter asked.

"Go to sleep!" I demanded.

Remus ignored Peter. "Sirius, how could you...?"

"I didn't know, okay? I just walked in and there they were," Sirius explained vaguely.

"Were they actually...?" Peter, finally catching on, asked.

"Close," Sirius answered.

"So, you interrupted, is that it?" Remus offered.

I slammed my fists down against me. "Great! Everyone knows that I'm a virgin now! My life is complete!"

"There's nothing wrong with that," Remus tried to comfort me. I heard Sirius snort. Peter coughed uncomfortably. I rolled my eyes. "You two are not helping!" Remus barked at the other two.

"James," Sirius, finally composed, provided, "it's not like you're alone on this. Remus is a virgin, right?" Silence. "Right, Remus?" Silence. "_Right_?"

Remus coughed. "Uh... actually..."

"Actually what?" I snapped.

"Remember when I dated Narcissa a year ago?"

"I tried very hard to forget it," Sirius replied.

"Well, yes, and well, she was... very advanced... so, I... you know..."

There was silence. Then Sirius shrieked, "EW! That's sick! I'm going to throw up now. Remus and Narcissa... yuck."

"Remus!" Peter whined, gagging, "her essence is all over this room because of you! You've contaminated the dorm! We're going to have to sanitize the room now!"

"You dating Narcissa was bad enough, Remus," I moaned, "but you and Narcissa actually... ugh." My skin crawled. 

The issue of my virginity was forgotten. I never forgave Sirius for his carelessness. When the door is closed and I am no where else and Lily is gone too, it should be obvious where we are. For the next year, I tracked Sirius now and tried to ruin his most intimate moments with his girlfriends but I was always one step behind.

*** ***

But, finally, my chance to catch him at a disadvantage had come. 

I slowly crept out of bed. On my tiptoes, I dressed myself, scarcely breathing. I held my breath as I heard footfalls in the hall. Sirius and Mystery Girl were trying to make a getaway. I slowly opened my bedroom door, putting my hand over the hinge to silence the squeak. Sirius and a girl with shoulder-length were starting to descend my staircase. The woman looked slightly younger than him, perhaps three years at most, and she was wearing Sirius' spare clothes. They scarcely paid attention to me, intent on exiting my house. I crept up behind them and ducked into Sirius' new room.

In the room was simply a cot with undone sheets. A causal glance at the sheets told me that Sirius and Mystery Girl had indeed been quite intimate with each other, or as Remus liked to phrase it, "had a private lesson about Anatomy". The wardrobe was still open, obviously the "friend's" new outfit had come from there a few seconds before. Besides Sirius' usual possessions (dirty laundry hamper, comb, etc), a discarded tuxedo and peach bridesmaid dress were shoved under the cot. Beside the door was a sparkly peach purse. Curious, I picked up the purse, opened it and found tissues, breath mints, pain pills, feminine supplies, a Self-Inking quill, small notepad, and a wallet. I took out the wallet and saw an Apparation license. Our new friend was named Marguerite Malina. She was twenty-four years old, had brown hair (duh), gray eyes, 5 foot 4, and lived in England. Well, well, well, Miss Malina, I'll be a nice person and return this, shall I?

I re-entered the hall and heard Sirius putting on his shoes below me, most likely near the front door.

"Are you well enough to drive?" Marguerite whispered.

"I'll manage," Sirius mumbled back. 

With a smile on my face, I called out to him, "Sirius? Where are you going?"

There was a dead silence. Sirius responded, "Uh... just out on my motorcycle. I'll be back soon."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"I have my helmet." I heard Sirius tapping it with his finger.

"Wallet?" I supplied.

"I'm just driving around, I'm don't need any..."

I interrupted Sirius with, "Not your wallet. Miss Marguerite Malina's."

Before I could blink, the woman herself sprinted up the stairs, her lovely face red with embarrassment. I gently handed her the wallet and purse. "Yours," I said. She nodded quickly and again went downstairs.

I couldn't hold it back. I laughed as I ran down the steps after her. Sirius looked absolutely violated and stunned. Marguerite buried her face in her hand. I started dancing around, singing, "I caught you, I caught you, I finally finally caught you!"

"And I'm so glad," Sirius answered in monotone.

"I bet you regret interrupting me in sixth year now, don't you?"

Sirius put his face in his hands. "James, let it go already. You've been married for six years now and now Lily's pregnant. You had plenty of chances to redeem yourself."

I panted, tired from my little song and dance. "I feel better now. Come on, have some breakfast."

Rolling his eyes while muttering "nut" under his breath, I led the pair into the dining room. I began making toast as they sat down.

"I assume you're James Potter," Marguerite said.

"Yes, I am," I answered.

"Do we have any pain medication?" Sirius moaned, pressing against the space between his eyes.

"Hangover?" I asked.

"A slight one. Too much champagne."

"Uh, how did you get home?"

"I drove," Sirius answered, as if it was obvious.

"After drinking champagne?"

"I drive better when I've had a few, trust me. Now, do you people have pain pills or do I have to brew my own?"

"In the toilet. How about you, Marguerite?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I don't get hung over. I get drunk fine but I never get hangovers."

"Lucky you," Sirius mumbled as he went to find some relief. With Sirius absent, the toast decided to turn brown for me and I served the toast to Marguerite and interrogated her.

"Well, what's your story? How did you end with him last night?"

Marguerite blushed as she buttered her toast. "Well, the bride is my sister, you see, and I was at the reception with everyone else. We had all heard about some mysterious cousin that my sister had never seen except in a single photo in an album. She had asked if the Black family would invite him so our family could meet him. So, we were just done taking pictures when we heard this loud roar of a motorcycle but ten times louder, coming down the street. The motorcycle drove towards the dance hall they had rented for the day and stopped in front of the wedding party. He took off his helmet, shook out his hair, and simply smiled and said, 'Hello, everyone. Nice to see you all here.' Everyone was dumbstruck. The Black family looked like they wanted to simply die on the spot but Sirius just kept smiling, chatting idly away while the Blacks gave him one-word responses."

"What about your family?"

"Well, my family was surprised but my sister looked disgusted. I could tell she didn't want him anywhere near her. Well, as for me, I was... impressed."

"Impressed?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I had never seen anyone do that. I could tell that his family didn't like him very much but it didn't matter to him at all, he didn't care what they thought. I've never seen anyone with such confidence. Well, after the reception was in full swing, I went up and talked to him and well, had a few drinks, a few dances together. It was fun."

"But how did you two end up back here?"

"Well, he drove me home afterwards. My goodness, it must have been three in the morning. Anyway, I forgot my house key at my sister's house! I remembered as soon as I got to the door and I have it charmed so Alohomara doesn't work. So, Sirius decided I should go home with him and I agreed so we came here." She blushed harder. "And then we went right to sleep. Out like lights."

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"We _did_."

"Sure you did. Out like lights, just like you said."

Lily's voice saved her from further embarrassment by demanding, "What is this dress doing up here?"

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Yes, absolute pure fluff! Well, Marguerite does have a role to play later on but at the moment, enjoy the good times because everyone knows the ending of this story, don't we? A bit long, I know, but hey, the story has a life of its own. By the way, I don't support the Remus/Narcissa pairing. That's just for a bit of fun. Oh, yeah, NO ONE drives better with a few drinks! Don't drink and drive! EVER! Come on and review by either the button or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com. See you later!


	7. It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christ...

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling. 

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Seven: It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

It was soon the Christmas season and time yet again for the annual Ministry Christmas party. All Ministry employees, government members, their families, and famous celebrities were invited to a large gathering at the Ministry to pretend that Christmas was still a time of goodwill towards men and try to forget that a mad psychopathic Dark Lord was systematically murdering and torturing Wizards and Muggles alike. And to ignore the evidence that many of our honored government officials were helping him along. 

For children, it was a time of running around without purpose and getting presents and sweets. For young adults, it was a time to get sloshed. For parents, it was a time to smile at their darling children still innocently believing in Father Christmas. For Lily and I, being at a crossroads, it was a time to reflect. 

It was December 22nd and our baby still refused to show itself. Lily and I congratulated ourselves on buying our presents before this date while Sirius still had to find something to give to others. We tried not to tease him too much. We knew how unbearably hard this would be on Sirius; Clarissa had cherished Christmas. It was so natural to identify Clarissa with Christmas that I slipped up and asked what he was planning to buy for her this year and whether he was spending the day with her as well. It took me a minute of Lily's dirty looks for me to remember that Clarissa was dead. 

At first, Lily and I felt terribly guilty about leaving him behind while we went to the party but Sirius assured us that he was fine. He was going to visit Elliot while we were gone. 

We took a Muggle taxi to London. As we rode to the Muggle city, Lily said, "It must be weird for Sirius to visit Elliot and not see Clarissa's decorations."

"I doubt the couple who owns it now would leave their house completely bare."

"But it's not _Clarissa's_ decorations. He must miss her a lot. She was all he had."

"I should visit Mother this year."

"Yes," Lily said pointedly, "you should."

"Christmas Eve perhaps."

"She'd like that."

When the taxi stopped in front of King's Cross Station, we got out and walked to the Leaky Cauldron in the blistering cold. The bar was full of lonesome ruffians escaping the cold or men worrying about what to buy their kids. We walked to the back and met a wall. 

"Uh, Lily, I've never gone this way, so…"

Lily took out her wand. "I'll do it!"

"No, just show me and _I'll_ do it."

"Don't you trust me?"

"No."

Scowling, she tapped her finger on the required bricks as I repeated her actions with my wand. The wall opened up, revealing Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley, being underground, was warmer to our relief. We trotted to the Ministry building, where the party was being held. 

A House Elf took our cloaks at the entrance. The main lobby had been transformed like every other year. Differently decorated trees lined the walls and non-melting icicles hung from the ceiling. A corner of the room had the illusion of falling snow where the children could have snowball fights and build snowmen without getting wet and cold. We could hear the squealing from the other side of the room. Tables had been set up for sitting or eating at the party goers' discretion. Along the left wall, between trees, tables with mountains of food had been laid out. An orchestra was playing winter selections from both Wizarding and Muggle composers. People were chatting delightedly and milling around us like a human river. 

"Lily!"

"Arthur!" Lily ran towards a red-haired man that could only be Arthur Weasley. He was tall and lanky with slightly thinning hair. He worked in the same department as Lily in Muggle Affairs but his office was the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. I didn't know him very well in school, he was Head Boy when I was in third year. Sirius knew him better than I and only because they had lived in the same town, Recluse Proper. There had been rumors circulating during my youth that the Weasleys were once a respectable family but an affair with a Muggle woman had destroyed them completely. However, I don't know for sure. Arthur Weasley was married with five children with one on the way, two of them identical twins, as I've mentioned before.

"Lily, how are you? You look splendid!"

"I'm great. How's Molly?" Molly is Arthur's wife.

"Begging for the baby to get its act together and be born. Besides that, she's good. I heard how well your little addition is doing."

Lily beamed. "Yes, we're very excited."

Arthur turned his attention to me, his eyes sad. "I'm so sorry about your father, James. It must be a terrible blow."

I shrugged. "Thanks." Hoping to change the subject away from me, I asked, "When is your baby due anyway?"

"End of February, early March. Molly can barely wait."

The conversation then turned to our due date and Lily asking for advice. I patted her on the shoulder to indicate that I was leaving, and then I drifted into the crowd. I soon found myself near the children giggling and rough-housing in the magical snow shower. There were chairs nearby so one could sit and watch the children and relax. In one chair was a young woman with elbow length light brown hair, sketching in a notebook. She was wearing a red dress robe with sparkling white snowflakes.

"Hello, Virginia," I greeted. 

She looked up and smiled. "Hi! How are you?"

I sat down in the chair next to her. "I'm good. And you?"

"I'm great. Percy told me about you and Lily, congratulations!"

Who else could this be then the famous Virginia Lenore? Or, more correctly, Virginia Weatherby, famous for her stories, poetry, and paintings. Lily and I were actually unknowingly the subjects of "The Kiss", which I found out years later. She was two years under me and always struck me as a bubbly, electrified hyperactive Hufflepuff girl who never seemed to be able to shut up. At Hogwarts, I always saw her with her quieter friend, a girl that Sirius and the rest of Recluse Proper called "Little Finger" in reference to her dyed pink-highlighted hair and her older sister's nickname, "Proper Finger". It was quite obvious to Remus, Peter, and I that "Little Finger" was quite enamored with Sirius because of her constant stuttering and blushing around him but Virginia made it her mission to catch Sirius' attention for her friend. I don't think Sirius ever noticed. After I left school and she was in her seventh year, she became famous for some novel she had written based around a dream she had. All I knew about it was that it was about some little orphan named Ron Seannings who has a rat named Scabbers who goes and saves the world with his little friends named Harry Ians and Hermione Rowling. Or something like that.

Upon meeting Virginia for the first time, two aspects of her life usually confuse and stun the greeter. First, although Virginia wrote _Ron Seannings_ and _Christmas Voyages_, both children's books, most of her work was dark and downright bizarre while in real life, she was a cheerful, lively individual. Second, she was married to her long-time crush, Percy Weatherby, the blandest, most inflexible, and most anti-social man in existence. The public constantly wondered what Virginia could possibly see in Percy. I was baffled with the best of them. I personally couldn't stand Percy Weatherby and couldn't believe he was the cousin of the hospitable Arthur Weasley. All I knew about Weatherby was that he worked under Barty Crouch, who he seemed to worship like a deity, in the Magical Law Enforcement division and was insufferable to everyone who was in a fifty-mile radius of him. Most shrugged their shoulders and sighed, "Opposites attract". 

She closed her sketchbook and gave me her full attention. She frowned and said, "I'm sorry about your father."

"It's alright. What are you working on?" I asked.

"Oh, illustrations for a new story I'm working on. Just simple drawings. To tell you the truth, these things make me uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? Why?"

"All these important government officials and I'm just a silly author after all. I'm only here because Percy is with the Ministry and I'm married to him."

"And because you wrote _Christmas Voyages_."

"Anyone can read that aloud." She shrugged. "Food's good though."

"Yeah, I just come here for the food myself," I admitted. It's true!

She laughed and placed her notebook on the ground. "Doesn't Lily feed you?"

"She feeds the cat."

"You poor thing! You should tell Molly, she'll feed you."

"Doesn't she already have to feed her children?"

"Well, most are at the horrible picky stage, don't eat half of their plates. You can have whatever they pick over." Her face fell slightly and she muttered, "Uh oh."

"Virginia!" A voice called out from behind me. 

"Gilderoy, how nice to see you!" Virginia flashed a very big forced smile to her audience. I spun around to see who was behind me. It was a blond man in velvet green dress robes with purple flourishes all over it. His hair was curled and he was grinning too broadly like some invisible force was holding his lips apart so you could see every single one of his bright-white shiny teeth. My brain scrambled for a name to fit this bizarre face.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," he announced, practically punching me as he threw out his hand for me to shake, which I did weakly. "And you are?"

"James Potter," I mumbled. I knew Gilderoy was a boy's name but it seemed that the old baby factory couldn't decide whether or not the Lockhart child should be male or female; apparently the jury was still out. He promptly ignored me and quite forcibly sat down on the other side of Virginia. He didn't notice her turn slightly green.

"How are you, Virginia? I haven't seen you since that book signing three years ago! Been simply ages, hasn't it? What's new?"

"Um... I got married to Percy Weatherby two years ago."

"Percy Who?"

"Weatherby. The Ravenclaw in our year, don't you remember?" Virginia turned to me. "Gilderoy was in Hufflepuff with me."

"That's right, I was! Funny how we _both_ became authors! It must be fate!" 

I admired Virginia's public face. I rolled my eyes. I had never actually met Mr. Lockhart before but now I realized how happy my life had been before. I got up to leave but Virginia held on to my robes. "No, please, stay. You're not bothering us." If Lockhart hadn't been so annoying and if Virginia hadn't been so pitiful and defenseless against him, I would have left. Instead, I sat down again.

Virginia asked, "I hear that you have a new book coming out soon, Gilderoy. What's it called?"

Gilderoy practically burst from excitement. "I call it _Holidays with Hags_. Brilliant title, isn't it?"

"Yes, as good as _Year with the Yeti_ and _Voyages with Vampires_. You're so clever!" Virginia praised him. I nearly burst out laughing. Was he going to write books using every letter in the alphabet? What's next? _Adventures with Ashwinders_? _Battling Bicorns_? _Conversations and Crumpets with the Chimaera Clan_? _Dueling with Dragons_? _Encountering Erumpets_? _Farces with Fire-Crabs_? _Guarding Gringotts Against Giants_? _Investigating Imps_? _Joking with a Jarvey_? _Keen on Kappas_? _Looking for Lethifolds_? _Mangling the Mackled Malaclaw_? _Nights with a Nundu_? _Observations of Off-The-Wall Owls_? _Pricking Pogrebins_? _Quick Tricks Against the Queen of the Quintapeds_? _Rousting Redcaps_? _Sneaking to Safety Beside a Sphinx_?_ Tricking Trolls_?_ Uncovering Unhappy Unicorns_? _Waking Werewolves_? (That's a story I'd read. Remus sleeps like the dead!) _Xciting Xplorations of Type-XXXX Creatures_? And right before he retires, _Zany Zippers for Demiguise Cloaks_? It took all my strength not to laugh at all the potential book titles I could offer for Lockhart. 

Lockhart didn't notice my strangled giggling. "My, Ginny...!"

"Um, I don't like to be called Ginny," Virginia corrected politely.

"But it's so cute, just like you!" He flashed that smile again and edged closer. She edged herself away. 

"But I still don't like it, Gilderoy."

"That doesn't matter! I was about to say how smashing you look tonight. Red always looked very sexy on you."

Virginia tittered nervously. "Uh, thanks. You look good too."

"Yes, I know." He flashed a smile again. Narcissus, call your office, I thought. He edged closer but Virginia had nowhere to go except the floor or my lap so she had to lean back instead. "You wore red that night."

There was a long pause. Virginia's eyes rolled around as if she was searching for something inside her head. Finally, she asked, "Uh, what night?"

"You know, _that night_."

"No, I don't. What night?"

"The night after the book signing."

There was another long pause and more eye-rolling on Virginia's part. "Uh, I remember the publishing company having a party afterwards but I barely spoke to you."

"Ah, but you looked, didn't you?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"I walked you home."

Virginia's face scrunched up. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Yes! You did! I remember now!"

"Ah, you remember."

There was another long pause. Finally, Virginia nodded. "Yeah, that was nice of you. I would've gotten lost otherwise."

"You still feel the same, don't you?"

Yup, another pause. "Huh?"

"In your heart, you know the truth."

"About what?"

"Us!" Gilderoy announced seductively.

"We're both writers?" Virginia suggested nervously.

"Ginny..."

"Virginia," I corrected. "And she's married, in case you forgot."

Gilderoy looked at me as if he hadn't seen me before. "Are you still here? What's your name again?"

"James Potter and yes, I'm still here."

"Oh, okay." He turned back to Virginia who didn't bother to hide her revulsion. "Virginia, we can continue what we started."

"Um, _what_ did we start?"

"Don't play innocent, Ginny."

"For the umpteenth time, _Virginia_, and I have no idea what the blazes you're talking about!"

"I know you're attracted to me and you have always been attracted to me. Come to my hotel room tonight." At this, he began to grope her knee. Her eyes widened in shock. I stood up, ready to strike but Virginia turned her face to the crowd, pointed and proclaimed, "Isn't that the _Daily Prophet_?"

Gilderoy paused in his groping but did not remove his hand. "Is it?"

"Yes, and they have photographers!" I followed her line of vision and indeed reporters were politely asking dancing couples their views on the night as photographers took shots of their smiling faces. "Oh, Gilderoy, I can't afford to leave the children alone! Could you go distract them for me? Keep them away?"

Gilderoy removed his disgusting hand and immediately began preening himself. "Well, if I must," he said with a wide smile, "I will force myself into the spotlight for you, Ginny."

"Virginia. Thank you," Virginia sighed. Gilderoy went up to a reporter and led himself away from Virginia and me. She smiled a grim smile at me. "That'll keep him busy," she said scathingly. "The most vain man I know."

I sat down again. "Do you have any idea what he was talking about?"

Virginia rolled her eyes in exasperation. "We were both at a book signing. We both went to a party. He walked me home. He made a pass. I slapped him. Nothing happened between us besides that. I don't know what happened in his little universe but nothing ever happened between us."

"Was he like that in school?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"He made passes to all the girls. Most accepted them but I didn't. He was annoying as... anyway, what I don't understand is how he is doing all those things that he writes about! He was the worst student in the Defense! He was helpless against the Cornish pixies that infested our Common Room in fifth year, for Heaven's sake!"

"Maybe something finally clicked."

"In that brain? Highly doubt it. Must be sheer luck," a voice interrupted. Percy Weatherby had just walked over.

"Percy! Where you were five minutes ago?" Virginia asked jokingly.

"Talking to Mr. Crouch, Virginia. It would have been extremely rude of me to run off." Percy answered, clearly not understanding the joke. "You seemed to be able to handle that Lockhart idiot." Percy looked at me in distaste. "Hello, Potter. How's your wife?"

"Doing well. You?"

"I'm fine," he replied tensely.

"Uncle Percy!" A little voice cried out from behind the sheet of magical snow. A red-headed face peeped out. 

Percy actually smiled and knelt down to be eye-to-eye with the boy. "Are you having fun, Percy?"

Percy Weasley was the third child of Arthur and Molly, after Bill and Charlie. He was four years old and wore glasses. He greatly admired his "uncle" Percy (being Arthur's cousin, Percy wasn't really his uncle but the children called him uncle anyway) and frequently turned to him for advice and praise. If I didn't know better, I'd say that Percy was Percy Weatherby's true son because the resemblance was so striking. 

"Yuh-huh! I made a snowball all by myself! Wanna see it?"

"Percy! Don't step out, the snowball will...!" Virginia warned but Percy had already run out. The enchanted snow did not really exist; it was merely an illusion protected by a magical barrier. However, if you stepped outside of it, the snow on your clothes, hair, or on your hands in the form of snowballs would vanish. This fact little Percy had not considered and held out his hands only to find them dry and empty. His face fell in sorrow. In a matter of seconds, his tiny face scrunched up, his eyes filled up with tears and he let out of heart-wrenching sob. 

"My snowball! It's gone!" he croaked out, his hands in fists. "I want it back!"

We adults swarmed around the little toddler. Virginia patted his back. "Percy, we tried to tell you. The snow can't exist out here."

"I want my snowball! It was mine!" Little Percy took a shaky breath. "I wanted to show it to Uncle Percy!"

"I'm sure it was wonderful, Percy," Percy Weatherby said soothingly. "Now, dry your eyes."

"We can help you make another snowball," I suggested. Little Percy hiccuped and nodded, wiping his eyes.

We stepped into the magical barrier and nearly bumped into Bill, the oldest Weasley child at age ten. "You okay, Perce?"

"Yuh-huh," His brother replied. He brightened up. "I'm gonna make a bigger snowball!" 

The older Percy smiled at his cousin's son in a fatherly sort of way. "That's the spirit. Shoot for the bigger and better things."

"Yup!" The toddler plopped down into the warm glittering snow and set to work immediately with his mentor at his side, offering advice but letting the child to do the desired work on his own.

"He'll be a good father someday," Virginia sighed. 

That's all a matter of opinion, I thought. 

*** ***

After making ten snow angels with Charlie, the second oldest Weasley at age six, and helping the twins, Fred and George (age two), with their angels, Lily sneaked in to watch me. When I noticed her shadow, I looked up and saw her trying to not to laugh.

"You're so cute, do you know that?" she said, getting on her knees. Fred (or was it George?) wriggled free of my grip, allowing Lily to have my full attention. 

"How long have you been standing there?"

"A minute." She opened her mouth to say something more but stopped herself. After a slight pause, she suggested, "Say, do you want to stay to hear _Christmas Voyages_? Or go home?"

I put my arm around her and we rocked back and forth. "Sure. We got to start memorizing. By next Christmas, we're going to have someone to tell it to."

She smiled back. "Yes, we are."

We left the snowy wonderland as the parents began to creep in and inform their children that Mrs. Weatherby was going to read them a story. Most children jumped up and down and squealed. This is what they had been waiting for all night. 

The dance floor had been covered in throw rugs where children scrambled for a good seat. In the center of the room was a hunter green plush overstuffed chair with Virginia sitting primly, book in hand. Children chattered and rolled over each other in excitement, infants sitting in their older siblings' laps. Adults stood around them, separating the children from sight of the doors. Adults without any use for children's stories stood apart, either preparing to leave or drinking heavily, laughing softly. A few chairs were brought out for ones who could not stand for long. Most of these were pregnant women. I looked at Lily.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Just hold me up," she suggested softly. I put my arms around her and she leaned into me. She hummed a Muggle Christmas carol softly. Before I could ask what she was humming, Virginia spoke, "Well, it's Yuletide again, children." The children giggled. "Every year, I tell you about my adventures with Father Christmas but..." she stood up, appearing to be deep in thought, "perhaps you're bored with it now." The children cried out for her to start. Yes, they wanted her to tell it again. She sighed melodramatically. "Well, if you insist." She sat down again, picked up the book, opened to the first page and held it up so everyone could see the illustration. It was obvious she didn't need to read the story herself. "The story I am about to tell is true. Every word comes straight from reality..."

You probably know the story. All this young girl wants for Christmas is to help Father Christmas on his Christmas voyage around the world. Since she's such a good girl and does not want anything else, he grants her wish and she travels the world, meeting all the other characters that other countries say he's accompanied by as well. I had never heard it before but I soon found myself enraptured by the beautiful sights described by Virginia and impressed by the other countries' little helpers. Of course, the girl must go home and the story had to end.

"... I was glad that I had that chance to travel with him. I know I was one of the lucky ones. Don't fret, my little friend. Just because he can not let you travel with him does not mean you can not help him as well. Everyone can be like him, just keep a kind heart and be giving to all and you too will be a welcome guest on his sleigh."

She closed the book and sighed. "The End!"

A young boy cried out, "Is that really _true_?"

"Of course! He and I even owl post each other all the time!"

"Cool!" another child responded.

"It would be really nice if he could come here, wouldn't it? Let's all close our eyes and wish really, really hard! On three! One, two, three! Wish!" All the children squeezed their eyes rather tightly. Virginia kept one eye open and grinned at the adult crowd. I saw Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa, look at each in disgust and roll their eyes. I saw that Narcissa was sitting in a chair because she was clearly pregnant, probably a couple of months away from her due date. How dare they roll their eyes at these children who still believed that Christmas was pure and good! And they were about to have children?!

"Ow, James, you're hurting my arm," Lily complained. I loosened my grip on her upper arm.

After the children had wished long enough, Virginia gave a slow nod. Someone behind me began ringing sleigh bells. A few children gasped. Virginia opened her eyes, looked completely astonished and cried, "Are those sleigh bells I hear?"

"I heard them too!" A small girl replied.

"Me thwee!" A smaller boy next to her, probably her brother, whistled.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" A booming voice announced.

A small boy of about six stood up to see above the adults, pointing. "It's Father Christmas! He came!"

The children jumped up and down and practically screamed their lungs out. I looked behind me. In a large red suit and long white beard, was Arthur Weasley, made fat with padding. The adults who had drinking clapped and muttered to each other in praise. Virginia stood up and went to "Father Christmas", her arms reaching for a hug. "Father Christmas! What a surprise!"

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Well, you of all people should know that I can hear wishes!"

"Of course! How's your wife?"

"She's excellent! And all the elves and all my companions around the world are ready and willing to go!" The children cheered. "And how are you?"

"I'm great! Since you're here, why don't you let the children remind you what they want for Christmas?" The children cheered again with delight.

"Well, I do have a few moments to spare," The red-clad man chuckled.

"Take my seat, Father Christmas," Virginia offered, taking him by the hand to the overstuffed chair. "Now, everyone, let's all get into a queue, okay? If you are disorderly, he will be late going home and you all know he has so much to do in the next couple of days!"

"Okay!" The children responded, getting up. They didn't exactly form a perfect queue but they tried very hard to be good since "Father Christmas" was there, looking at them. Most children ask for the usual things, like Quidditch sets, dolls, and other childhood necessities. A few children, to my despair, wished for their mother or father to be home more often or to "come back", which obviously meant they were dead or missing. Even just one child asking for that would have been too much for me. 

The Weasleys were adorable. Bill went first, climbing on to his father's knee. Bill gave him a slight smile. Bill already knew that there was no Father Christmas and that was just his father in a suit. 

"Have you been a good boy this year?" His father asked.

"Depends on who you ask."

"Bill!" Percy hissed, clearly worried, "don't say stuff like that or he won't bring you anything!"

"Father Christmas" laughed. "Not to worry, little Percy, (this prompted a jaw drop from Charlie and Percy. "How'd he know my name?") I know that Bill has been a good boy."

Bill politely asked for a book on myths and legends and leapt off. Charlie quite proudly told him to bring "anything with dragons. Surprise me." Percy, quite timidly, crawled on to the giant lap.

"Have you been a good boy?"

Percy looked at his mother. Molly answered, "Yes, he's been very good." Percy sighed a breath of relief.

"And what do you want for Christmas?" Percy answered something quietly. "I didn't hear that." Percy mumbled. "I can not hear you."

"I WANT A BABY SISTER!" Percy screamed. A few in the crowd laughed. "Father Christmas" turned red under his beard. "Uh, Percy, your mother isn't 

going to have her baby until March, it won't be here in time."

"Oh," Percy replied, then said sagely, "well, I'll just have my present late then."

Molly put a hand on Percy's shoulder, "Dear, I don't think Father Christmas can give you that."

"Why not? He's Father Christmas! He can do anything!"

"Well, um, not exactly…" Molly seemed to be at a loss. This wasn't the time for a discussion on where babies come from or the limited powers of Father Christmas.

"Percy," Bill explained with the gall of a ten-year-old, "Father Christmas doesn't handle babies."

"He doesn't?"

"That's a whole other department! It's like the Ministry. Dad can't do Uncle Percy's job and Uncle Percy can't do Dad's job. Father Christmas can't do the baby thing because that isn't his department."

"Father Christmas" coughed and nodded. "That's right. That isn't my job. What else would you like?"

Percy frowned. "I can't think of anything else."

"Surely you must want something else, just for yourself," Molly responded. Percy shook his head. 

"If Percy doesn't want anything, can I have two presents?" Charlie interrupted.

"No!" Molly answered sternly. 

The older Percy came to the rescue. "Percy, weren't you telling me the other day that you wanted that easel with the large parchment pad with multicoloured quills?"

"Yeah, I did but I thought you wanted to get me that."

"I'll surprise you instead."

"Easel it is then! Is that all?" The red man asked. Percy shook his head.

Fred and George yelled, "We want bouncing balls."

"I'm Fred, and I want the wed one."

"I'm George, and I want the 'ellow one."

"Alright then!" Virginia said, clapping her hands, "that's everyone!"

"No, it's not, Virginia," The sitting man replied with a smile. "There are others."

"Others?"

"The ones not yet born." With that, he pulled Molly into his lap and said to her stomach, "And what do _you_ want for Christmas?"

Virginia laughed. "Alright, everyone here who is still inside someone else, please have your representative step forward!" A few of the drunk adults squealed with laughter. "Not _that_ sort of inside someone!" Virginia laughed, trying and failing to sound cross. The drunks laughed harder, a couple falling down. 

The assortment of barely showing to about to burst pregnant women walked or struggled over (one had to be carried) to "Father Christmas" to ask usually to be healthy but some asked for Quidditch brooms or dolls. One woman shocked her husband by stepping up, taking the opportunity to tell him she was indeed pregnant. "Just found out last week. Never got the chance to say before!" This woman asked to be healthy as well. Lily came up last, sitting delicately on his knee.

"What does our baby want for Christmas?" Lily replied. "I guess our child wants what I want. Our child wants his daddy to be happy, and wants his foster uncles to be happy. Our child wants our missing to be alive, wants our suffering to suffer quickly, and wants our dead to be watching and be proud of all of us. Our child wants the guilty to be punished, the innocent freed, the evil condemned, and the good rewarded. Our child wants every other child to not find the need to ask for a family member returned for Christmas ever again. Our child wants a world where intelligence, wit, and courage are praised above trickery, lies, and cruelty. That is what my child wants. That is what every child wants." I could hear some people crying softly or muttering prayers under their breath. Lily continued with a smile, lightly adding, "And a mince pie. A whole one to eat just by myself." The crowd laughed and the tears dried.

"Well, Mrs. Malfoy, you're the last one. Come on up." "Father Christmas" patted his knee.

Narcissa glared at him. "No."

"No?"

"I am _not_ sitting on your lap."

"It's only for a few moments," Virginia interjected.

"I'm not doing this."

The children murmured like a bubbling river. "Why doesn't she sit on Father Christmas' knee?" "Her baby is not going to get anything." "She's mean."

Virginia looked around nervously at the children. She laughed, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before? Mrs. Malfoy doesn't want to hurt Father Christmas, he's had a lot of people sitting on his knee. She's being _considerate_."

"What's considerate?" Percy asked.

"It's when you think of someone else before you think of yourself. Good children are always considerate." Virginia turned back to Narcissa. "You're thinking of Father Christmas' poor knees, aren't you?" Virginia stressed her words.

Narcissa rolled her eyes in disgust. "Yes," she replied sarcastically, "I'm thinking about his _safety_."

"Father Christmas" stood up. "Ho! Ho! Ho! I believe I must be going back to the North Pole now. Lots to do!"

The children clamored for him to stay but he politely told them he could not. As he left, he reminded the children to be good and to go to bed early on Christmas Eve, explaining, "I get so nervous around an audience." With a wink and wave, he swept out the door and vanished.

The party was over and everyone went for their cloaks. Arthur, as his usual self, strode back in, trying hard not to look cold (he had merely Apparated to the other side of the building), asking, "Did I miss anything?"

Percy huffed at his father, "You missed everything, Daddy!"

Charlie added, "Father Christmas came!"

Fred and George chanted, "Balls! Ballie ballie balls!"

Arthur snapped his fingers. "Oh, shoot. I knew something would happen as soon as I left."

Lily and I laughed. "You have rotten luck, Arthur," Lily teased, as I helped her with her cloak. 

"I guess I do. Happy Christmas, you two," Arthur responded joyfully.

"Happy Christmas!" 

*** ***

"James?"

I grunted. I was tired and about to fall asleep in our bed when Lily spoke. "Yuh?"

"Do you want to know what I was thinking while I was watching you play with the Weasleys?"

"Sure."

"You'll make an excellent daddy."

"You really think so?"

Lily sighed. "I do, yes. There's two parts to being a parent. One is basic care: feeding, bathing, clothing, all that. The another is actually caring. I was watching you with the twins, Charlie, and Bill. You cared about those kids. I think you can give all the material possessions in the world to a child but the child is still heart-broken if no one loves them. While I was watching you, I kept seeing our child with you. You're going to make a perfectly wonderful daddy, James." She gave me a hug and rested her head on my chest. I stroked her hair in silence. 

"You'll make a great mother, too, Lily," I finally answered.

She made a little sigh of contentment. "I love you."

"I love you."

Then we both fell fast asleep in each other's arms.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Wouldn't it be nice if I could just end the entire fic on that note? Just stop the tale right here and not talk about that nasty stuff. Unfortunately, I can't end the story here. The tale has barely begun. The idea of a Wizarding Christmas story was inspired by Caitlyn's fic "Lessons For Life" (which, by the way, I wrote a sequel to called "Scorched Earth Policy"). When I first wrote this chapter, I didn't realize that "The Kiss" is a real work of art! It's a statue by Rodin. That's not the one I'm talking about, it's supposed to be a modern Wizarding culture painting done by Virginia Lenore. If you know of the real thing, it's not a reference to that one. However, _Ron Seannings_, if you haven't figured it out, is a reference to the _Harry Potter_ series, a sort of _Harry Potter_ for the magical world. If you wondering about the names, Seannings comes from Rowling's friend, Sean, who acts a lot like Ron in the Harry Potter books. Ians comes from Rowling's other friend, Ian Potter, whose last name inspired the last name of our favorite child hero. Rowling, of course, is a reference to the great woman herself since Hermione in the books is sort of based on herself as a little girl. So, what did you think? Review! Flame! Ask questions! E-mail to destinyplot@lycos.com if you'd rather do that. See you soon!


	8. But As Long As You Love Me So

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Eight: But As Long As You Love Me So

It was like I had never left. It was the same as the Christmas after my seventh year. My father was still alive then. Voldemort was still a slightly gruesome joke. It had been six years since I had visited the Manor. Six wasted years that I'll never get back.

The Houses Elves had done an excellent job with the interior decorating. Fairy lights were all along the mantle piece and railings. The fire was blazing as it normally did on every winter night. A House Elf took my cloak and carried my boots away as I stood in the hall, staring at the decorations. Nothing was different, nothing had changed. 

I entered the sitting room cautiously. My mother was not there to my surprise and disappointment. I had told her I was coming but I really didn't feel like chasing her around the house so I stayed there. There was a Christmas tree in the room. Every room in my house had a Christmas tree every year and every tree was decorated with a theme. This tree's theme was plaid. It was covered in plaid bows and glass balls. There were two long couches, a love seat and a chaise longue, all covered in hunter green plush. Along the walls were photos of family members grinning down at me. There was a collection of pictures of myself. I walked closer to them to examine my younger self. 

The first one to my left was me as a baby. I was completely bald and stuffed into some sort of Christmas sleeper. I blinked bemusedly at my father who was showing me some toy by shaking it in front my face. Beside it was a picture of me as a toddler wearing some sort of Christmas outfit. I had hair in this picture and I was holding a toy broomstick labeled "Starter 100", an early brand of toy broomsticks. Again and again I pushed my large glasses up the bridge of my nose and turned the label towards the viewer to show what kind of broomstick I have. My younger self smiled weakly. I remembered that Christmas. I had been very sick for weeks. On Christmas day, I could barely get out of bed to open my gifts. My early years were full of sick days and being put to bed. I can clearly remember not having the strength to move and staring sadly out my window at birds flying the summer sun. It was a miserable time. 

Next to that picture, I was with Lucius, about five years old. We were in dress robes and posed on the loveseat in the Parkinsons' home. My unhealthiness was clear when placed against Lucius' vigor. Lucius' face was full and his face clearly held color while my face was shadowed and my skin looked pasty. Lucius was smiling but his eyes showed his boredom; I was smiling only barely and my discomfort was clear. There was another picture of the same time with the other pure blood children. Again, my smile was weak and forced. There was a picture of a different time. Now, I was seven and my early fragility had almost faded. Here I was posed with Lucius and Narcissa, with her between us. Narcissa was simpering at the camera, Lucius was smirking, and my face was neutral with only a hint of smile. There was a photo of myself at eight, standing alone by a Christmas tree in the Malfoys' home. I was shuffling my feet and playing with the branches nervously. 

I laughed when I saw my picture at sixteen. This was the only picture where I was grinning broadly. If the photographer had looked carefully, they would have noticed a slight bulge in my shirt pocket. That Christmas I had brought Peter along in his Animagus form. I had suspected for years that Lucius was afraid of rats so I decided to test my theory. I casually walked near to where Lucius and Narcissa were having an intimate conversation and placed Peter on the floor. Peter, as previously planned, scampered over and climbed on to Lucius' knee. Narcissa shrieked with terror and Lucius screamed like a little girl, trying to force Peter off his pant leg who had dug his tiny claws into his robe. I fell over from laughter. Of course, I was heavily scolded for bringing a rat into the house (I told them I found it outside) but it was worth it. Tears still come to Peter's eyes at the mention of it. I was slightly disheartened, however, at the lack of smiles on my faces. Before Hogwarts, I was very lonely and it was a shame that my pictures couldn't lie to me and make me believe otherwise. 

"Well, we'll have plenty of smiling babies to photograph, won't we?" I thought aloud.

"Yes, I agree."

I turned around and saw my mother in the entrance to the room. She looked much better than last time. She was dressed in a plain red robe with her hair curled around her ears. 

"Hello, Mother."

"Hello, James. Binky told me you were here in the sitting room. Looking at the pictures, were you?" I nodded. "You have grown into a man. Soon you'll have a child of your own to love."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." I could feel my throat choking up.

"Well, if you had come sooner, I wouldn't have been here. I was visiting Ariel earlier."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know. There's nothing to be done about it now, is there?" Mother strode over to me and patted my shoulder. 

Eager to change the subject, I said, "Anyway, I was just thinking about how I don't smile much in these pictures."

My mother looked at the pictures in question and nodded. "You're like me, hate getting your picture taken. You do smile in later pictures though. You looked so charming in your wedding robes."

"And my last day of school."

"Very grown-up. You looked very grown-up." 

"Where are those pictures?"

"In another room, dear. Along with some others." My mother turned away from the wall and sat in the love seat. Roxer, another House Elf, darted out of my line of sight quickly after delivering a tea tray with biscuits. "Thank you," I called out as I sat down on one of the couches. 

We drank tea in complete silence and the biscuits were soft and made no sound. It was very awkward. We Potters are not great conversationalists. Well, it would be more accurate to say we don't have a gift at starting conversations. We talk just fine but someone else has to make the first move. Back in the old days, one of my parents could ask about my tutoring or my days at Hogwarts, but those times were gone. 

"Your father liked this tea very much," my mother said suddenly.

I jumped in surprise. "Really? What kind is it?"

"Store bought Earl Grey."

I chuckled. "I was expecting some secret tea blend."

"Oh, it's not that special. He just liked this particular brand."

"Oh."

Silence reigned again. I could feel Guilt bearing down on me. You should have come before, why were you such a stubborn...?

"James, how is Lily?"

"Oh, she's good. In the mornings she's sometimes a bit queasy but the doctor said that's natural."

"Ah, a bit of queasiness is very good. I was horribly ill every morning while I was carrying you. Frightened the daylights out of your father." She laughed slightly. "He used to think I ate the strangest things."

"Lily eats weird things too! She gets these weird cravings."

"Has she sucked coal?"

I nearly dropped my cup. "Coal?"

"For iron. I sucked coal occasionally. Your father used to think that was disgusting."

"It _is_ disgusting. No, she hasn't done that. Yet." I laughed nervously at the thought. "I wouldn't be surprised though."

"You shouldn't worry. The baby knows what it wants. Nature has everything under control."

She sipped her tea and I ate a biscuit. Speaking of sweets, I asked, "Mother, did you make that Christmas pudding this year?"

My mother shook her head and placed her teacup down gently. "It was your father who made that pudding, not me."

"Oh, right, I forgot," I replied glumly. "I loved that pudding."

"I know you did."

"Do you still have the recipe?"

"Of course. Would you like it?" 

I nodded. I sipped my tea as she poured herself another cup. During the Christmas season, I remember, House Elves prepared most of our food. However, some succulent dishes were made by my parents. My father only made the pudding. I glanced at the picture of myself with the toy broom. That was the first Christmas I can clearly remember.

"Mother, remember that Christmas, when I was three years old?" I asked, pointing at the picture, "We had that pudding that Father always made. Remember when he lit it on fire?"

Mother laughed at the memory, forcing her cup down on the table. "You screamed! You were petrified with terror!"

"I tried to blow it out!" I squealed. 

"Your father just kept laughing and laughing. I thought that was terribly cruel of him but I have to admit, you were so cute, trying with all your breath to blow the flames out! You were so precious!"

"My tutor had explained fire safety a month before around Bonfire Night! But Father explained that the brandy was the only thing on fire and it burns away on its own."

"After that, you would jump up and down when we brought out the pudding."

In unison, we laughed, " 'Set it on fire!'"

"Thought we had created a little pyromaniac," my mother added. We chuckled over that for a minute. 

"Mother, why _did_ Father make the pudding anyway?"

My mother flushed with embarrassment. "Because I wasn't very good at making it."

"How so?" I sipped my tea.

"Our first year of marriage, I attempted that silly recipe. I don't know what I did, probably too much of one thing and not enough of another thing. It didn't turn out right. When we sat down to eat it, it was disgusting."

"That's awful, Mother."

"I'm not done. Well, your father remembered his Christmases as a boy and remembered that the pudding was lit on fire so perhaps that would help the taste."

"Did it?"

"I'll never know. In my eagerness to be a good wife, I jumped up to light this horrid pudding on fire with my wand."

"And you forgot the brandy."

"I didn't give your father the chance to remind me about the brandy. So, I lit the pudding on fire and nearly burned our dining room along with it." I burst out laughing. My mother tried to suppress a smile as she added, "Well, I'm glad that amused you so much."

"I just got this image of you two running around madly in a blazing dining room!"

"Not far off the mark. I accidentally hit your father's sleeve as well." I roared with laughter. "The House Elves were prompt though. Saved the dining room and your father, although our food and his robes were destroyed."

"Including the pudding?" I asked, composing myself.

"Burnt to a dry, hot lump."

I smirked. "You always seem so graceful. It's hard to imagine you two going into hysterics like that."

"We were young. We were done with mistakes when you came along so we simply appeared to be graceful from the start."

"And the truth comes out. So, Father made the pudding from then on."

"He liked the decor of the dining room to be free of scorch marks."

"Great, I'll be eating pudding and I'll keep giggling. Lily will think I'm mad."

"You can tell her the story. It's funny now but we were deadly embarrassed at the time."

"Speaking of charms gone haywire, remember the day Father charmed my hair to grow?"

Mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "Your father... I could've killed him that day. What was he thinking?"

"He did it during my sleep, didn't he?"

"I can still hear him now, 'I'm going to check on James for a minute, you just rest there a moment.' If I had known what he was planning, I would've stopped him."

"Better than being bald, I guess."

"Your hair would have grown! And if it hadn't, there were measures that could have been taken when you were older. You were only three years old. The very least he could have done was put his wand farther away to have a wider spread so it would look natural, instead of tufts like he did. He could have used some common sense in regards to his own child. I could have died when I saw you." She put her face on one hand. "There was nothing I could do. I couldn't cut it; it just grew back five minutes later the same as before. I could have simply _killed_ your father then."

I ran my hand through my hair. "It's not that bad."

"Well, you grew into it, made it your own. But it was a nasty shock at the time." She tsked and shook her head. "Your father could do some very stupid things at times."

"I'll try not to do any stupid things with my kids." I sipped my tea. It was cold so I downed it painfully in one gulp and poured myself another. "Say, what was that story book Father used to read to me?"

"_Travels of the Moon Skipper_?"

"That's the one. Do you still have it?"

"Somewhere. I don't recall it being thrown away."

"May I have it?"

"Of course! Your father practically had that tale memorized from reading it so much."

"It must have been annoying to read it that many times."

"No, it made you happy. With you being sick so much, it was a pleasure to see you smile occasionally. He was always better at voices than I was. You always liked his voices. And Heaven forbid that he would skip a word or rephrase a sentence because you always corrected him. Nothing slips by you."

"I must have been very demanding."

"All children are in their own way. You'll find that you'll love them all the same, regardless of what needs they desire."

She sipped her tea and then jumped. "Oh! That reminds me! How is Remus, by the way?"

"Remus? Good. He's moving to..." My mind drew a blank. "To some Scandinavian country... I can't remember which. I can't remember right now. I think he leaves in late January."

"Is he excited?"

"Well, he's not jumping up and down with glee. He got a job offering there so he took it."

"In astronomy?"

"Astronomy?"

"Yes, I always thought he was good in astronomy."

"Remus was terribly in astronomy, Mother!" We gave each other perplexed looks. Finally, I asked, "Are we talking about the same person?"

"I'm talking about Remus whose parents were astronomers and whose aunt just died!"

"Mother! That's Sirius!"

I groaned in frustration. You'd think after fourteen years she'd be able to tell my friends apart! She _always_ had this problem with Remus and Sirius. "Mother, Sirius _Black_, my friend. There's Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Sirius Black was the one who had astronomers for parents and whose aunt has just died and did well in Astronomy. Remus Lupin is the one with the parents you like to talk to so much and did well in Defense. Sirius has black hair and blue eyes while Remus has brown hair and grey eyes."

"Oh, I always confuse those two, I'm sorry. Well, how is Sirius then?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Sirius is employed under my home. He's helping Lily out while I'm away at work."

"Why doesn't he just work as an astronomer?"

"I don't really know," I admitted. "I've never asked him."

"He should do something he's good at."

Well, I thought to myself, there aren't many openings that pertain to being an illegal Animagus. My mother didn't know about that so there was no need to share such idle notions. "Perhaps. For right now, he's working for me. Until the baby is born, that is, because then Lily can control her magic."

"Oh, dear. I forgot about a woman's magic during this time. It must be stressful for all of you."

I suppressed a groan as I told her, "I get by." 

I filled her cup as my mother sighed and asked, "Does Peter still work at that music shop?"

"Yes, Mother, 'The Final Note'. He helps his mother teach some of her students though."

"Really? Your cousin was wondering about music lessons for her Eve. Perhaps I should recommend the Pettigrews to her." My mother sipped her tea and added in reflection, "Your father liked Peter. 'Such a friendly lad', he'd always say. He liked all your friends, now that I think about it. He enjoyed talking to Remus and his parents. He always remarked that Remus was very mature for his age, although always did look a bit worn-out at times. He thought Sirius was a particularly witty young boy, although half the time, we couldn't figure out what were meant to be jokes and what were meant to be serious. He always said you two made a good pair, you played off each other nicely like twins. He always jokingly asked if I had given birth to twins and donated one of them to the Black Family. But I must say, he sometimes led you a little away from the proper path."

I laughed, "Mother, it was all in fun. We were young."

"I know but you could have gotten in real trouble." She replied. "But, you always got right back on track. Your father and I knew that you were a good child and you just got swept up in Sirius' plans." She sipped her tea and then quickly corrected herself, "Not that Sirius was a dangerous boy. He was just a little unorthodox at times. But you were always our little angel." I told you people are naive. I sipped my tea as my mother remarked, "Well, at least you four didn't do anything illegal." I choked on my tea in distress. 

"Wrong pipe," I croaked out. 

"Be careful there, James. Yes, Sirius was a wild child. It's understandable, losing his parents at such a young age in such a manner. He just lacked a proper nurturing environment," my mother sighed sadly.

"I thought Clarissa did a fine job in raising Sirius!" I argued in defense.  
"Well... she wouldn't have been my choice for a legal guardian but that's whom the Blacks wanted. Yes, I agree, she did her best but sometimes children have problems that even the best adults can't resolve."

"Clarissa was a good guardian for Sirius. I think the Blacks made a wise decision in selecting her."

My mother did not reply; she sipped her tea instead. She said finally, "Your father actually knew Mr. Black."

"Sirius' dad?"

"Yes. The Blacks sometimes went to the same gatherings as the Potters did. Roger, Sirius' father, was ten years younger than your father. Strange sort of boy he was, your father told me. He only met in adulthood a few times. Very moody, emotions changed at the drop of a hat. I vaguely remember Janet Tapp, Sirius' mother, in the paper when they married. Very pretty girl. Ten years under me as well. I remember her eyes the most. She had very striking blue eyes. Sirius has his mother's eyes. He resembles her greatly. Your father always remarked on Sirius got the best of them. Roger, at times, could be a very witty young man but Sirius was much wittier and he wasn't as moody. Of course, Sirius got her looks with some of his father mixed in of course. Yes, your father always did like Sirius."

"Were Mr. Black and Father friends?"

"No. I didn't mean to give that impression, sorry. He only knew him from afar. He didn't really like the Black family to tell the truth. He thought their conversation to be rather boring at times. He always liked a man to be knowledgeable. That's why we pushed for your studies so much. With intelligence, you can go anywhere. That's why he enjoyed Remus so much, there was a boy who could hold a proper enlightening conversation. Peter was such a nice and polite young man. I always liked him best. Always minded his manners. His mother must be very proud of him. Never met a more decent gentleman."

"I didn't realize you enjoyed having my friends over so much," I answered.

"Oh, your father loved entertaining your friends. We were so worried that you were becoming antisocial during your youth. We wanted you to be happy and make friends at Hogwarts. You made such delightful friends there. Your father always told me that they brought out the best in you. You four brought out the best in each other, I'd say." 

Yeah, when we weren't breaking a thousand school rules and a couple Wizarding laws to boot, we were little angels. That's only because we had to sleep occasionally. "Well, we certainly helped each other out whenever we could."

"And they never distracted you from your studies."

I laughed. "Sometimes they helped me raise my scores." Yeah, like by convincing me to try being an Animagus. My Transfiguration scores shot through the roof after mastering that. 

"And I'm sure you helped them raise theirs more often than not. Don't be so modest, James. You're naturally clever. After all, you always placed first in end of the year exams, became prefect and Head Boy. That is most impressive."

Silence again embraced the room. My mother simply stared at her tea as I nibbled on a biscuit. "Yes, most impressive. You far exceeded our expectations. I've never told anyone this but the mediwizards all told us that you weren't going to live a full life. They all said you'd have an assortment of crippling health problems if you managed to survive childhood. 'Don't expect too much because he'll fail,' they all said. I believed them. I saw you, barely alive in my arms. What else could I believe?

"Your father, on the other hand, out of sheer stubbornness refused to accept that explanation. 'Never let on that we doubt his survival,' he told me, 'Pretend that the mediwizards all agree that he has a full one hundred percent of recovery.' I thought he was crazy, clinging on to that false hope but I went along. We pretended that your health was temporary, a passing phase of childhood while everyone else began preparing for your funeral. The remarkable thing is your father never faltered, not once. He never had any doubt that positive thinking would help you pull through." She looked up at me and I could see her eyes shining in the firelight. Smiling, she whispered, "And you _did_. You really improved. This little sickly infant survived, cast off his weakness and became the best student in Hogwarts, when everyone had told me that there was no way you would ever walk into Hogwarts, much less raise to the status that you did."

"I had no idea..." I started.

"He knew all along that he was right in saying that you would live. We never predicted you would become prefect or Head Boy, he only said that you would live to see Hogwarts and do well. Just well, not fantastic. You were always one to jump three steps when we wanted you to walk one step. You always walked your own path, did your own way of doing things. We couldn't help but be proud of you even when we disagreed with your choices."

Without thinking, I rushed over to my mother and hugged her for a very long time. After so long, after my extended and cold absence, I was still their son and they were still my parents. It was a strange feeling. I was so old yet only a child, saddened yet strangely satisfied at the same time. I can't describe it to you, I don't quite understand it either.

After a long while, my mother placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and suggested that it was time for me to go home. Silently, I separated myself from her and got up from my knees.

"Don't worry about me, James," she said softly, "I'm visiting the rest of your father's family tomorrow." She paused and added, "If you and Lily would like to go, I'm sure that your aunt Ariel can feed two more."

I shrugged and answered, "I'm not sure."

"That's alright but if you change your mind, you're welcome there. Happy Christmas, James."

"Happy Christmas, Mother."

With a smile and sigh, I Apparated back to my house.

*** ***

When I found myself home, the radio was playing softly. The fire was crackling and only one lamp was turned on. On the table there was a cup. Taking a closer look, I saw remains of hot cocoa. Sitting on the window seat looking out the window was Sirius, nursing a cup of cocoa.

"Trying to spy to see if reindeer really know how to fly?" I asked.

Sirius smiled but didn't look at me directly. "You tell me."

"I've never tried it but I don't think it's possible. Besides," I corrected, "I'm not a reindeer. Reindeer are bigger and uglier."

"If you say so," he muttered as he took a gulp of his drink.

"Where's Lily?"

"Asleep. Just went up half an hour ago. How was your mum?"

"She's holding up well. She's going to see the other Potters tomorrow." Sirius grunted in response. I flopped down on the couch, listening to the radio. "Is this the classical station?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know you liked classical."

"I don't usually but..." Sirius paused, swirling the contents of his cup. He went on softly, "My Aunt Clarissa always did. I'm only listening to it because it was always on during this time of year and I remembered they play carols. I hate listening to people that can't sing try to sing carols so... yeah, that's why it's on."

"It's nice and unobtrusive," I commented. We sat there, listening to strings and woodwinds play another carol. "Which one is this?"

" 'We Three Kings of Orient Are', I think." Sirius smiled and added, "This was my mum's favorite carol."

"Really?"

"She liked the lyrics. I remember, when I was really little, she used to tell me that the song was about me. 'Star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright'. Never mind that I was born January 21st but I believed her."

"When did you figure it out that you were not the Son of God?"

"It came on in a store and I started shouting that my song was on. Then some old busybody told me what it was really about. Started crying right there in the store and my mum started ramming on the woman for being a killjoy."

"What was your father's?"

"I think he liked 'Oh Holy Night'. He could sing it in French too."

"And Clarissa's?"

" 'I Saw Three Ships'. But she liked them all really, to tell the truth. She always did like Christmas most of all."

"What's your favorite carol?" I asked.

"Hm... never really thought about it. I guess I like 'Little Drummer Boy'. Yours?"

"I always liked 'Let It Snow'."

Sirius humphed to himself, "Winter Circle's out tonight." He pointed out the window. "There's Orion with Betelgeuse and Rigel..." he slid his finger up a few centimeters and added, "And Taurus with Aldebaran..." Up a little farther his finger slid, as he added, "Auriga with Capella..." Moving to the left in a circle, he added, "Gemini with Castor and Pollux..." Moving down in the same circle, he said, "Canis Minor with Procyon..." Tapping the glass under the previous position, he concluded proudly, "And finally Canis Major with the brightest star in the sky, Sirius." I applauded. He smiled but said, "Damn, I used to know the names of the other stars, too. I'm losing my touch."

"Oh, you poor thing," I replied sarcastically, "this coming from Mister 'Oh no, I think I got one of the _bonus_ questions wrong' here."

"You were just as bad."

"You knew the _bonus_ which was stuff she didn't even cover!"

"Yeah, but you did that for _every_ teeny weeny quiz. I just cared about those astronomy exams. Big difference." 

"I'm not debating this with you," I grumbled. 

"You just don't want to admit I'm right."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you done with that cocoa yet? You've been drinking it the entire time I've been here."

Sirius threw his head back, gulping down the dregs of his cocoa. "Yum, wet sugar and cocoa powder."

"Yuck. How old are we?" I grimaced as Sirius laughed. I turned off the radio as Sirius took the empty cups to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink.

"Come on, Father Christmas doesn't come to naughty children who stay up late," he joked.

"You'll be getting coal anyway, Sirius."

"Yeah, you're getting ciders."

We laughed as we raced each other upstairs. Sirius burst into his bedroom and poked his head out. "I win."

"Don't you need to brush your teeth?"

Sirius stepped out again and hissed, "I still win." 

"Good night, Sirius. Happy Christmas."

"You too," he whispered back as he walked to the bathroom and I walked to my bedroom to get ready for bed.

*** ***

One by one, we all woke up on Christmas morning and journeyed downstairs. To our disappointment, we received two letters from Peter and Remus. Remus explained that his parents desperately wanted him home for Christmas since he was moving later but he promised to stop by on Boxing Day. Peter's letter was written by his mother actually, saying that Peter had caught a bug that had grown progressively worse and this morning he could barely get out of bed. Both had been gracious enough to deliver their presents. 

"Well, I'm here!" Sirius said when Lily had read the letters aloud. "And I got presents for you all."

"We should send our presents to Remus and Peter. Especially Peter, poor thing," Lily said. 

"Yeah, I saw him on the 22nd," Sirius replied, "he wasn't looking so well then. But, what can you do? If he's sick, he's sick and there's not much else we can do." We all sighed. It was kind of depressing with two of our invitees missing. Lily attached Peter's and Remus' gifts to our owl's leg. With great difficulty, our owl took flight into the barely pink sky.

We exchanged gifts after breakfast. Remus had sent me a red and gold scarf (my Hogwarts one was all ratty and thread bare), Sirius a new alarm clock, Lily a book titled _A Muggle-Born Witch's Guide to Magical Children: All the Questions You Felt Too Stupid to Ask_, and the baby a bear that we were supposed to record our voices on to. 

Peter had sent me a Muzak (some new device that plays Wizarding discs.), Sirius a pair of blue waterproof gloves, Lily a tape titled _Songs to Calm the Little Child Within You_ which had relaxing breathing exercises and soothing music (if it was played in the Muzak, Peter noted on a slip of paper, it showed projections of forests, waterfalls, etc. "It wouldn't hurt James to try this out himself"), and the baby of a book of lullabies. 

Sirius gave me a book titled _I'm Sure She Didn't Mean That: 100 Signs that Your Pregnant Wife May Be Just A Touch More Upset With You Than She Usually Is_, Lily a baby name book that included meanings, famous people with the same name, numerology, and other such information, and the baby a box of floating glowing balls that, when touched (each ball had a different texture), played soft melodies. I don't know what exactly he gave Peter and Remus.

Lily gave me a Rembraball, Sirius a watch, Peter a tuning fork that would tune to any note desired (his collection was broken. Some angry and very strong student had bent the whole set in a fit of rage), and Remus a warm coat. 

I gave Sirius a pocket planetarium, Remus a pocket metal scanner to avoid any embarrassment at his new job, Peter a Write-Note which wrote down the score to any song played to it, and Lily a blank photo album.

Oh, and I gave the baby a whole mince pie.

As we all contemplated trying out Peter's Muzak, a tawny owl swooped in and dropped a letter on Sirius' head sharply. Rubbing his head, he opened the sealed letter with one hand. Slowly, he smiled and said, "Seems I've been summoned."

"Summoned? By who?" I asked.

"Elliot's family. Lawrence just sent me a letter saying that he wants me to come over."

"Oh, go on," Lily said, waving her hand towards the door. "They obviously want you there. We won't miss you."

As I watched Sirius read over the letter again and debate with himself, I thought over my mother's invitation. I hadn't seen the rest of my family in ages. "Yeah, Sirius, go ahead. We'll just go over my family's place."

"Your family?" Lily asked.

"My aunt Ariel is hosting Christmas this year. My mother invited us along but I wasn't sure if you'd like to or not. Since we're no longer entertaining, it would be nice to go."

"About time," Lily said softly. Nodding, she answered, "Yes, we'll go to your aunt's place and Sirius can go visit the Turners. Are you still going, Sirius?"

"Well, as long as you two have somewhere to go, I'll go over there to visit," Sirius answered, getting up. "See you Boxing Day." He Disapparated. 

"I'll call a taxi," Lily said.

"I'll call them on the fire to say we're coming," I answered.

*** ***

"Lily?"

Staring out the taxi window, she nodded as she answered, "Hm?"

"What's your favorite Christmas carol?"

After a short time, she answered, " 'Silver Bells'."

"Ah."

" 'Ere you are," the taxi-driver grunted as we pulled in front of the mansion. Lily paid him the fare and he replied gruffly, "Happy Christmas." Then his mouth dropped open in shock. "How'd that happen?" I smiled as I noticed that someone in the family had charmed snow on to the lawn. I knew for a fact that it had not snowed the night before or that morning. The driver shook his head, muttering, "What am I thinking? It's fake, the whole thing's fake snow."

Lily laughed as we waved at the taxi pulling away. Like a small child, she kicked up large mounds of snow as we tromped up to the doors. 

For a minute, I paused. I saw the snow glittering in the December sun. I saw Lily giggling and dancing in the snow. I saw her still-flat stomach but knew the life that was inside her. I saw the wind rustle through the pine trees and through Lily's red hair. 

I looked up into that cloudless, blue sky and sang, "The fire is slowly dying, and, my dear, we're still good-byeing, but as long you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

Just let it snow.

To be continued...

Author's Notes: I meant to be done by Christmas but here I am at 31st and just completing it. I wasn't originally going to have this chapter but I realized that I kind of left Mother Potter out in the cold so I thought of this chapter. Special thanks to a friend of mine who suggested the plaid-theme tree (after suggesting "Spam", "Treet", "Brie", and "Tormented Childhood"), my brother for helping come up with something for the Potters to discuss before the whole "your father loved you" thing, www.christmas-carols.net for listing the lyrics to a lot of carols so I could think of favorites for everyone, and Anjerla at Sugarquill.net for sites of star charts so Sirius could wow you with his brilliance. Let's see some reviews! Just hit the button or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com! See you later!


	9. What Will Be

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling. 

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Nine: What Will Be

Work had been rather uneventful since the discovery of my father's pieces in my desk. I continued work on magical misuse and abuse barely skipping a beat. From time to time, people would stop by and express their condolences but by January, these visits had ceased. Lily continued her work from home and presumably sent me sandwiches. 

I was working on an ordinance against a dotty old woman (I knew this woman. Trust me, she was dotty) who had committed her fourth count of illegal Apparition when one of my co-workers, a man named Ernie Booth, came in.

"Didn't you hear?" He asked.

"Hear what?" I answered, not looking up.

"There's a Ministry-wide meeting. Apparently the Aurors have to alert us about something."

I turned around. "All the Ministry has to go? I thought it was just for the Magical Law Enforcement!"

"They just informed us a few minutes ago. They don't have enough owls to tell the whole Ministry so they told us to go around and deliver the message."

I groaned. "Is it now?"

"Yes," Ernie replied, nodding. 

I got up and walked to the Meeting Hall with Ernie. When we had walked a distance, Ernie asked quietly, "Did you hear what happened to Arthur Weasley?"

"His baby couldn't've been born yet, it's due in two months."

Ernie shook his head. "Imperius."

"Imperius?" I repeated, astonished, "How? Who?"

"He doesn't know. He managed to break it just in time. An Auror, that Moody guy…"

"Alastor Moody?"

"That's him. He was standing by and he could tell that he was struggling against some force. Lucky he was there or Weasley would be in Azkaban right now."

"What was he being told to do?"

"Poison the water supply. He had the poison in his hand and everything, one hall down from the water pump. We'd all be dead."

"Merlin!" I exclaimed softly, "good thing he broke it. He couldn't tell who was controlling him?"

Ernie sighed, "You know how Imperius works. Once you break it, you can't recall what the voice sounds like."

"Damn lucky Moody was passing by."

"Once in a lifetime chance."

We frowned at the thought of being controlled and unable to fight. There is virtually no way to prove that one has been under the Imperius. The only way is for someone to witness you struggling against the curse while you are still under its grip. The Aurors told us that "it's all in the eyes. Watch the eyes". But once the curse the broken, there is no hope except to pray that someone will believe you.

"I hear that they're trying to make a deal with the dementors," Ernie said suddenly.

"How does one bargain with a soul-sucking demon?" I asked, half laughing.

"This is just what I've heard but I hear that the Minister wants to give them Azkaban in return for leaving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Azkaban? The prison?"

Ernie nodded. "The dementors can feed off the prisoners then. It also keeps them away from the general populace. Even before all this, there were people getting Kissed. If they are all in one place, no more Kisses."

"Except the prisoners."

"Who deserve it if you ask me. Besides, people have been clamoring for years to make Azkaban more humane. I mean, it's just in their heads, isn't it? It's not like they'll be put on the rack or placed under rocks anymore. So, even if you're innocent, you're not getting physically injured."

"I guess that makes sense. It's just a mental thing, after all," I replied, after a moment's thought. 

"But that's just a rumor. It probably won't happen."

The Meeting Hall could reasonably fit the entire Wizarding population if the need required. It had stadium seating and a high ceiling. In front of the room was a blank white wall, used to project objects so the entire audience could see. A long table was in front of the large wall and lights shone down from the ceiling above. Every row was marked with a placard for each department and I stepped up to sit in the Improper Use of Magic row with my co-workers. 

There was a buzz of noise, each asking his neighbour why every department had to see this… whatever it was. 

The Minister of Magic stepped up to the podium and coughed weakly. The noise slowly died down until there was silence. Minister Garder was a tiny balding man with thin whiskers on his cheeks. He was very old and some even thought he was senile. He was decent Minister and tried all his three terms to maintain peace in the Wizarding World. His pacifist ways, however, in the common day in this struggle were useless. For years, he had ignored the threat of Lord Voldemort and now there was very little anyone could feasibly do. Very little, but not nothing. 

"The Aurors and the Department of Muggle Affairs have made an astonishing discovery. I have called you here," he gasped breathlessly, "to inform you of this information. Here to explain the situation is Alastor Moody."

The Minister hobbled away from the podium as Moody swept over towards it like a raven. I knew that Moody and Garder were around the same age, Moody being slightly older, but Moody was not a frail and weezy old man. He glared at the entire room with a piercing eye. It felt as though he knew every misdeed we had committed simply by looking. 

He boomed, "I'm sure you are all aware of the Cruciatus Curse. It is a form of torture. Prolonged exposure may cause madness. Further exposure may cause death. It is one of the Unforgivable Curses. But…" he glared at the room again and smiled a sarcastic grin, "I'm sure you are already aware of that. Using this curse sends the wizard or witch to Azkaban. Sometimes, a victim can identify the attacker if the exposure was not too long for them to lose their minds. This has caused problems for the Dark Forces. They don't like getting caught. So, they thought of a better way." He snapped his fingers and a member from the Muggle Affairs Department carried a box to the table. "_Promineo_." On the white wall was the image of what appeared to be an ornate music box. "We discovered this object a few weeks ago. It is called 'Chorda Caedes Box'. It looks like an average Muggle music box. Except it has no key to wind. It looks harmless, a simple plaything to be enjoyed. But it's not!" He bellowed. He shook his head and growled, "It's not. To a pureblood, this is indeed harmless. But to anyone with Muggle parents, even just _one_ Muggle parent, it is a deadly object. The box is delivered to the home. The victim looks at the box and assumes that it is from a relative or a friend. The person takes the box inside and opens it. There's nothing inside and no music plays. Or so they think!" Moody glared at the occupants of the seats. A few whimpered. "Opening the box activates it. The victim will then look for the key to wind up for music to play. While the victim looks for the non-existent key, cords will be conjured and come out of the box. The cords will grab the person's wrists, cutting them and breaking the bones. Then it begins to Crucio them and electrocute them. Next, more cords will be conjured; these will attack the legs. The cords will add more power to the Crucio and add to the electrocution as well as slice the legs. It will also shatter the bones in the legs and slowly and painfully kill the nerves throughout the entire body, starting with the legs and moving up. The final stage will conjure another cord. This will go for the neck. First, needles stab into the throat, paralyzing the vocal chords and burning the throat. Then, the cords will wrap around the throat and strangle the victim. Finally, it will break the neck, killing them if they are not already dead. The cords will continue to Crucio and electrocute until it runs out of power."

The audience was stunned into silence. No one breathed. Moody placed photos on the table and projected them on the wall. He pointed at one in the far top left corner. "This is a victim of the Box. This was a Muggle woman named Jane Parker, aged 37. Thankfully, her children were not home when the Box was delivered but they were the ones who discovered her body." The picture to which he was referring didn't look like a person, just a blacken lump on a green carpet. Moody pointed a picture to the right of it. "Another victim. A Muggle man, aged 45, named Henry White." Again, Mr. White was a lump of black flesh on a wooden floor. Moody pointed to another picture. "Here is the daughter of Mr. White, Jennifer. She was eight years old." Another picture. "Frances Lane, a Muggle-born witch, aged 32." Another picture. "George Habel, aged 54, his mother was a Muggle." Another picture. "This is his Muggle mother." Another picture. "Mr. and Mrs. Theobald. Their daughter currently attends Hogwarts. They were both Muggle, their daughter is twelve." Moody showed dozens of pictures of bloodied, charred victims. Muggles, Half-Muggle-borns, Muggle-borns, wizards, witches, children, and adults. One picture was of a tiny five-year-old boy whose father was Muggle and his mother was a Pureblood. 

"Constant vigilance!" Moody barked at the sickened crowd. "Always be on guard! Right now they have no way of harming purebloods with this but wait a few months and they'll figure it out. We are trying to find a way to disarm the Boxes but as far as we have discovered, once it's activated, that's it. The best option is to run or have someone else destroy the Box but that might be too late! Remember, just touching it activates the device, you don't necessarily have to open it! If you know Muggle-borns, tell them immediately not to touch any strange music boxes they are given. If you are Muggle-born yourself, be wary of anything delivered to you without a return address and without prior notice. Don't be fooled into thinking it's for your birthday or some occasion like that, they use that to their advantage! If you know Muggles, warn them about this. If they are not aware of magic, then lie. Say it's a bomb from a radical liberal group trying to overthrow the government, I don't care! Just warn them. Have constant vigilance!" 

The meeting was over. We staggered back to work. I made a note to myself to inform Lily as soon as I popped in.

*** ***

Fate was not kind to me. Had I been a second earlier, it could have been prevented but I wasn't a second earlier. I popped into the hall and called out to Lily to ask where she was. "In the sitting room!" She called back.

"But what is it?" I hear Sirius ask.

"It's a music box. My parents must've sent it," Lily explained. I bolted towards the room but I knew I was too late. Lily had the box open and was peering inside. "Funny, it should play. Where's the key?"

"Lily," I gasped breathlessly in fear, "who sent you that?" I already knew the answer.

"I'm not sure. I found it on the doorstep. Why?"

"Lily, please put the music box down."

Lily gave me a funny look. "Why? Are you afraid of music boxes? Why are you shaking?"

"Lily, I don't like bossing you around but I mean it, put that down," I stressed the last three words. 

"Why?"

"We were just informed today that there is a device being sent to Muggles and anyone with Muggle parentage to kill them. You're holding one," I answered with forced calm. I couldn't breathe. 

Lily dropped the Box like it was a snake and leapt back but the first round of cords had already been conjured and were snaking out towards her. She screamed and Sirius flipped over the couch in haste to get away.

"Sirius!" I ordered, "take Lily somewhere. The farther, the better. Owl me later with where you two are. Go! Quickly! Now!"

Sirius nodded and took Lily by the arm. The cords were slithering across our carpet towards her and she screamed again. Sirius flew open the door and pushed her outside. He quickly jumped out and slammed the door behind him. Minutes later, I heard the roar of his motorcycle fading into the distance. 

The next task was to destroy this Dark object. I pointed my wand at the flailing cord. "_Impedimenta_!" It continued to thrash in my sitting room. "_Finite Incantatum_!" The cords did not cease to live. I began to breathe heavily. The cords weren't attacking me but if I didn't destroy them, Lily's life would constantly be in danger. Then it hit me! The cords aren't the source of the spell, the Box is!

I ran over to the actual Box. The second round of cords were emerging and I stepped out of their way as they searched for the Muggle-born that had activated it. I aimed my wand at the Box itself. "_Impedimenta_!" The cords did not go still. "_Finite Incantatum_!" Nothing. I tried every charm I thought would work, even the Jelly-Legs Jinx, twice on both the Box and the cords. Nothing. Nothing worked. The Dark object continued to possess power. Every spell I cast at it was simply absorbed into the finish. 

Screaming in frustration, I ran upstairs and threw out my At-Home Quidditch set and took out a bat. I was never a Beater but I had no other choice. Gripping the bat tightly in my hand, I charged downstairs to my cord-infested first floor and with a mighty war cry, I jumped over the couch and struck the Box. Again and again, I beat the pseudo-music box with all my strength. In self-defense, the Box shocked me but I did not yield. The stronger the shock, the harder I hit it. Over and over, not stopping even when my arms were about to fall off. I just keep hitting it and hitting it, my teeth clenched and sweat dripping down my entire body like rain.

Finally, the Box no longer shocked me and the cords stopped moving. It was dead. I had killed it. I sat back on my heels, my right hand gripped around the bat, my whole body shaking. I stared at the Box that could have killed my wife and my unborn child with her. It was in pieces all over the floor. The cords were golden and looked like long Chinese finger traps. I felt dizzy and disoriented. 

When I gathered my wits, I called the Ministry to report my house receiving a Chorda Caedes Box. Within moments, the entire Auror force and a large percentage of the Muggle Affair personnel were outside my door. Weakly, I let them in and they swarmed the sitting room. I sat on the bench in hall, still breathing hard. 

An Auror I could not identify yelled sarcastically, "Thanks a lot for smashing the bloody thing to bits! It's not like we need to study it or anything!"

"It's not like it gave me a choice!" I hollered back.

"Why didn't you tell your wife not to touch it?"

"Because she already had when I got home! It was too late!" I getting a little cross now that my strength was returning. I'm not trained to deal with the Dark Arts on a daily basis.

Longbottom, who was examining the Box as well, asked, "Did you manually smash this?"

I held up the heavy bat. "No, I'm just holding this Quidditch bat for fun."

"Why didn't you use Eruo?"

"Because I didn't want to blow up my house!"

"The exterior of the Box is too strong and it absorbs spells. Eruo is the only spell strong enough to maintain strength after absorption and destroy the Box," Longbottom explained calmly.

"Couldn't you have said that at the meeting today?!" I demanded.

"Didn't you try every spell?"

"All except that one because Eruo is used to blow up condemned buildings! How was I to know that it would work?"

"Common sense," Longbottom responded. 

A post owl flew in with a message. I quickly plucked the bird out of flight and tore off the message. I sent the owl back as I read: "Dear James: We're at Elliot Turner's house in Quesera. Come when everything's okay. Love, Lily." After a few minutes of explaining how the Box was activated, the Ministry personnel left and, after deciding that Apparating would be risky since I didn't know the area well, Flooed myself to Quesera Floo and Transport Checking Point Station.

It wasn't until I had arrived at the station that I realized that couldn't remember for the life of me what Elliot's address was.

*** ***

I remember my first visit to Quesera distinctly. It was the summer after second year and we had all decided to a tour of everyone's houses. We picked Sirius' place first because Clarissa would get upset if she didn't see him right after term had ended. Sirius had sent a post to all of us saying to come to the Checking Point Station at one o'clock and he'd take us to his house.

We met at my house first and Flooed to the Station at one o'clock sharp. I had never been anywhere besides my home, other purebloods' homes, Wizarding London, Hogwarts, and doctor's office so this was a completely new experience for me. When we arrived, Sirius wasn't there so we took in the surroundings. It was an open-air station with two walls and a ceiling. On one wall was the fireplace where one exited and entered Quesera, the other was a glass booth with a very bored teenaged girl with too much make-up and long pointy painted nails inside. The station was dirty with litter rolling on the ground near the waste bins. There was graffiti all over the grimy brick walls. To occupy time, I read the messages on the walls.

"Look at this one, under the sign," I said, pointing to the area below the sign reading: _Welcome to Quesera._ " 'This is Recluse Proper' Oh, here's some more. 'Welcome to Hell. Don't Look For Help, There Is None Here'. Cheery place this."

"Where is Sirius?" Remus demanded wearily. 

I went to another message nearby. " 'Down With Establishment' 'Long Live LSD' 'Murder All The...'" I gasped in shock, "Remus! Peter! They use the f-word! And the b-word!"

"In one sentence?" Peter asked, walking over to my area. I pointed to the message in question. "Someone really doesn't like purebloods around here."

"This place is creeping me out," Remus interrupted, "did Sirius say one?"

"Yeah, he said one," Peter answered, taking out his letter. He scanned it quickly and nodded. "Yup, one, he says right here."

"Then where is he?" I asked while looking at a drawing that either was a face or a... never mind. I forced my eyes to focus on the letter. 

We waited ten minutes more, reading the spray painted cryptic messages on the walls. Finally, we looked at each other and raised our eyebrows. 

"Let's go ask someone where he lives. Maybe something came up suddenly," Remus suggested.

We left the station and wandered aimlessly through the dirty streets of Quesera. The houses sagged and the doors frowned sorrowfully at the houses across the street with similar expressions. Half the houses hadn't been painted in ages and the paint leapt off the sidings in large dirty curls, gathering in the weed-infested lawns around the houses. There was litter in the street and in the yards. Broken furniture, toys, cars on cement blocks without wheels or doors, and other refuse covered the lawns. We traveled through alleys between blocks of flats. The trashcans were overflowing with empty liquor bottles and empty cigarette packets along with rotten food. Children without shoes scurried like rats in the shadows, stealing the decaying food from waste bins. Vomit and human waste ran into the sewer or gathered in puddles in the ditches and potholes or around trashcans. There was graffiti on these walls too. These were similar to the ones at the station but there were some slightly more disturbing ones like "I hope no one minds my baby being here". We passed some dirty sleeping men, clutching their bottles or half-eaten sandwiches while wrapped in a blanket. One we even accidentally tripped over and found him to be dead. As we left him behind us, I saw out of the corner of my eye an urchin slink towards and begin raiding his pockets. High overhead, people chattered to the residents in the neighbouring buildings through open windows, babies cries drifted down, and radios blared all sorts of stations, the melodies clashing in disharmonious ways. Laundry was hung on lines and fluttered in the stagnant breeze in the alley. 

We passed the high rises and entered again streets with more sad houses. We walked by a tiny stream connected to a large stone waste pipe. Its dirty brown water rippled in the sun and for a split second, looked inviting. In the distance, we saw the hazy shape of the steel factory, its smoke stacks spewing out columns of smoke into the air. 

Finally, we came across a pathetic playground. There were three sets of chain swings, a jungle gym, pull-up bars, a long rusted metal slide, a crusty sandbox, and a rickety merry-go-round. However, most of the children were around or sitting in the large tree at the front. The ages were varied, from ten to sixteen in clumps, joking and chattering like a hive of bees. We looked at each other and silently agreed that Remus, being the tallest and oldest-looking, should speak.

"Do anyone of you know where Sirius Black is?" Remus demanded. The chatter stopped and all the ruffians glared at us. A boy on the ground asked a girl near him, "Are they askin' 'bout Prince?"

"I think so. D'you mean Prince?" she asked us.

We stared at each other. Remus replied, "Who's Prince?"

"Yeah," a boy around our age in the tree sneered, "I think you mean Prince. You all his friends?" We nodded. "Well, bully for you. We got a bunch of Hogwarts students, the elite of the elite." Most of the audience sniggered. "We're much honored by your presence," he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Remus growled in his throat and took a breath. "Do you know where he is?"

"Well, ever since he's gone to your fancy-arse school, he ain't got the time for us. No, we don't know where the Latronis is."

"Stupid stuck-up Hogwarts brats..." someone muttered.

"I think I know where he is," a small voice piped up.

"Little Finger! Shut your trap!" the boy in the tree snapped at a small girl, who shook with fear.

"You do?" Remus asked, "Where?"

"I can show you," the small girl replied. An older hefty girl, about our age, snorted. "Don't get all riled up, Jenna, he's mine."

"I'm not getting 'riled up', Cashlin," Jenna stuttered back, blushing, "they're lost. I want to help them."

"So what? Listen to your big sister. Proper Finger knows what's best for you," the boy in the tree said in mock sympathy. "Helping them won't get your letter here, Little Finger. Sucking up won't help your case one bit."

"Besides," Cashlin drawled, "I don't think these Hogwarts boys will want to hang around with a baby all day." The group laughed and Jenna hung her head.

"Hey!" Remus barked, "we don't care! If she knows, she knows and we want to find him!"

"Why don't you three stay with us?" a girl with all-too-revealing outfit in which none of the pieces matched sighed, "We'll have fun." Several girls giggled while a few older ones rolled their eyes.

Jenna stepped out from the crowd with her chin up and said, "I'll bring you to where Prince might be."

As we walked away from the crowd, a few of the tree dwellers screamed, "Brown-noser!" and "Why don't you lick their shoes while you're at it?!" as her sister ordered her to "stay away from my man, kid!"

Jenna, or Little Finger as she insisted to be called, was a skinny child with blonde hair with pink highlights. It was cut unevenly and the colour wasn't spread equally throughout the strands. She wore a simple dusty peach slip dress which was slightly too big and kept slipping off her shoulders. 

"So," I asked once we had escaped from the taunting, "how old are you?"

"Eleven," she answered. She had a tiny sort of voice and she kept looking at her ripped sandals.

"Oh. So, you should be getting your letter soon."

"I don't know," she shrugged which caused both sleeves to slip off. Pushing them up, she continued, "My family are Squibs. I don't care either way."

"Um," Peter attempted, "who did your hair? It's very... uh, original."

"My sister, Cashlin. She wants to be a hair dresser when she's older. Doll hair doesn't grow back."

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Prince's age."

"Why do they call you 'Little Finger'?" Remus asked.

"Because my big sister is 'Proper Finger'. It's a joke. The little finger is called the pinkie and my sister has been dying my hair pink for as long as I remember so it's a joke around that," she answered, attempting a weak smile.

"Is Sirius your sister's boyfriend?" I asked. "I mean, he's never mentioned her."

"I don't know. My sister wants him but he doesn't want her. It's in her head, really."

"Why is he called 'Prince'?" Remus asked.

She stopped and looked up at us. Life flashed behind those sad, down-trodden eyes and she smiled. "Because he _is_ a prince. He's not like us. He's pureblood. He goes to Hogwarts. He defends the weak. He's strong but he's not fire-starter. He's a good person. A wonderful person." Her voice was full of something close to worship and devotion. Her entire body was filled with it. Then the moment was gone and the light went out. She stared at the ground again and moved forward.

After a minute's silence, Remus asked, "What was that term they used back there?"

"What term?" she replied dully.

"It began with 'L'."

"Latronis?"

My tutoring came back to me. "Latronis," I repeated, "that's Latin for 'mercenary', isn't it?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. The sleeves fell again and she pushed them up. We waited for her to continue but she just walked forward with her head down.

"Um, why did they call him that?" I prompted when she failed to speak.

"It's because he went to Hogwarts. He's disconnected with the usual gangs here. He's a drifter, not belonging to any one crowd. If something comes up, he can join in to help out but he's not an official member of anything. He's a freelance, I guess."

"Does he help out often?" Peter asked.

"A Cultellus is always needed for something or other."

"Cultellus," I stated, "Latin meaning 'a little knife'."

She nodded. "It's the term for someone skilled at using a knife. He's very good. They often call him for a Sanguis Emano ritual. That's a blood letting ritual. Gang stuff, you know. Don't worry about it. It's not your world now, is it?" Her smile was bitter, far too bitter for an eleven-year-old girl. A shiver went down my spine. 

We were entering the outskirts of downtown Quesera. There was a strip of dingy and questionable looking stores. In the alley between one part of the strip and another was Sirius, bent over with a Muggle camera, taking a picture.

Little Finger blushed and cleared her throat. "Uh-uh-uh... Prince?"

"Yup?" he answered, examining his camera.

"Your-your-your friends a-a-are here."

His head snapped towards us. We scowled at him almost on cue. "You shouldn't be here yet," he said, bemused.

"We came at one," Remus answered tensely.

"I said two."

"You said one."

"I said _two_."

"You said _one_," Peter responded, holding out the letter, clearly reading the correct time.

"Oh," Sirius finally replied, "I guess I must've. Did you wait long?"

"We walked all over the town looking for your house!" I growled.

"Little Finger helped us," Remus added.

"Hey, Little Finger," Sirius greeted brightly, "thanks a lot. Can't have these three wandering around lost now, can I?"

"No problem," she answered quietly, digging her toe into the path. He got up and took another glance at his subject. It was an indecently dressed woman with too much make-up and general unhealthy appearance. Her legs were far apart, almost in a split, and her eyes were glassy.

"Fuzzy?" Little Finger asked. 

"She's dead," Sirius replied, "I didn't realize until I took the picture."

"It probably wasn't long ago," she concluded. "Probably just sat down and was... gone."

Sirius grunted. "Shame."

It was disturbing to see two kids be so calm about a dead body. The three of us were stunned by their behavior. "Was she..." I started uneasily, "a friend of yours?"

"Not really," Sirius said bluntly, "she was just one of the street walkers around here. I don't think she's even got a home so..."

"Nothing to really be done, is there?" Little Finger finished. She shrugged (her sleeves staying on for a change of pace) and said, "I'm gonna tell Mr. Thames about this. This is his storefront, after all." She walked up the stairs of the drug store the same time that Arthur Weasley walked out the door, carrying a plastic bag of his purchases.

"Hello, Little Finger," he called.

"Hi, Mongoose," she answered as she walked into the door. 

"Hey, Mongoose," Sirius greeted with a short wave. 

"Hello, Prince, James, Remus, Peter," Arthur said with a smile and curt nod to each of us in turn. Turning his attention back to Sirius, he remarked, "Weird calling you Prince when I usually call you Sirius at school."

"Well, we're not at Hogwarts now, are we? How's life?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, Molly is coming to visit tomorrow so I had to get some things," he answered, holding up the bag as evidence.

"Are you going to be Head Boy this year?" I asked. "Everyone said it's between you and Caracalla Malfoy."

He shrugged. "I can't really say but I sure hope I get to be Head Boy. Well, I gotta run. I hope I see you all later. Stay out of trouble!" Waving, he briskly began to walk home.

Little Finger left the store when we were about to leave. Before heading to Sirius' home, he paused and patted her on the head and thanked her again for bringing us to him. She looked a touch insulted as she blushed but she merely stammered in response. As a final gesture, he ruffled her hair and told her that she was such a sweet little kid.

"Sirius," I remarked later as we walked to the slightly better part of town where he lived, "don't you think that you were being a tad rude to Little Finger back there?"

"How so?"

"Well, you patted her on the head and called her a little kid."

"Your point?"

"It's a bit demeaning," I replied pointedly. 

"Aw, come on. She's not insulted. I'm having fun with her. She knows that." 

I sighed and decided for the sake of my sanity to drop the subject. 

Halfway home, Sirius remembered that his aunt would not be home so we took a detour to where she worked, a record store called Spins. It was in downtown so it looked pretty shabby. The door was dirt-speckled glass with the red "Open" sign a little lop-sided. Sirius opened the door and a little bell jingled above our heads. The inside was far from shabby or pathetic. Music by some Muggle group I had never heard before blared in the room. Someone had painted the walls silver and pasted on large black circles with grooves on them. There were rows upon rows of these strange circles by groups I had never heard of in my life. Near the door was the cracked, golden wood desk with a register and a simple calculator along with bags and pieces of paper stuck up on the wall behind it everywhere there wasn't a black circle advertising musical bands at somesuch place at this or that time. Slightly to the desk's left was an entrance blocked by a bead curtain with a sign above it reading: "For Special Customers: No Admittance Without A Member Of Staff".

Clarissa Tapp was manning the store and she grinned at us when we entered. Clarissa had been only eighteen when her sister had died and Sirius was put under her care. This made her, at this point, a fresh twenty-five years old. I had never before managed a good look at her. At the Platform, my parents would pull me away as soon as I stepped off the train, fearing I'd die if I was unassisted for one second. Her eyes were brown as well as her wavy hair. She didn't wear make-up or paint her nails and she had no jewelry on. She wore a slowly greying button-down black shirt with a grey floral skirt. Her eyes sort of frightened me. I had been told of Clarissa's handicap but it was still so strange to me. They looked sort of child-like and dazed, unlike most adults' eyes I knew. She just kept smiling at us as we scattered throughout the store. I stayed near the door, afraid to go in completely. I felt really out of place.

"What'cha doing, Sirius?" she asked as he leaned against the counter.

"I didn't really want to go home without you, so I thought we'd come and bug you a bit until you're done," he answered, doing push-ups against the table. 

"Well, that's nice," she replied, laughing. "Would you like to go upstairs a bit?"

"I forgot my player," he responded. "And my money while we're on this subject."

"Don't you ever browse? I'll be here for another half-hour. Go up and have fun."

"Hey," he asked the three of us, "want to go look at some real music or what?"

"You mean, you got more than Muggle stuff?" Peter asked, holding up a record with a group called "Yardbirds". 

"Upstairs, they do," Sirius explained, pointing to the beaded curtain. "Don't worry, she doesn't need to come along. It's to keep troublesome Muggles out."

"Sure, let's go," Remus said, replacing a circle back on the rack. Sirius strode up the stairs with Peter and Remus. I just felt like resting my legs so I yelled up, "I'll stick down here a bit." The others hollered their assent and continued to stomp up the stairs.

I sat down on the floor beside the table, facing the records. The song ended and it was silent for a moment. I heard Clarissa shuffle around behind the desk. I glanced around. The store had an industrial-model Player. Players, in case you don't know, were used before Muzaks. Muggles never had them but they were ugly boxes that were sold in many colours that played music from little gems, which were colour-coded by genre, called Hits. It was hidden behind a cupboard along with a different sort of device. It was flat with a flat circle on it with a sort of stick. On it was one of those black circle things.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing before I remembered that pointing is rude.

"A record player," she answered. "Neat, huh?"

So, that's what those things are called, I thought. "Is it Muggle?"

She nodded. "Muggles expect Muggle music and Muggle music are on records so we have a record player."

"How does it work?"

"Don't know. But it spins around and I like that." 

She took off the record and placed it in a sleeve labeled "Cream" and replaced it on a rack in the cupboard. She took out another sleeve labeled "Kinks", removed the record inside and put that on the record player. She slid the stick over the record and set it on the outermost groove. It crackled through the speakers and music began to play.

I sat back down on my original spot, facing the records. The music played in the room. Muggle music isn't that bad, I reflected. 

"Why are you so glum?" she asked finally.

I spun around to stare up into her face. "Glum?"

"You look sad."

"Do I?" She nodded. The song changed to another one. She smirked and commented, "You don't talk much, do you?"

I shrugged. "I have nothing interesting to say."

"Says who?"

"What kind of question is that?" I demanded. "Can't I just sit still?"

"Do you want to sit still? Or do you want to play?" I blinked blankly at her. I had no idea how to respond. "Do you behave like this at home?"

I stood up sharply. I had no idea I was being rude. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

"I wasn't scolding you. I simply was asking if you spend a lot of time sitting rather than playing."

"Well..." I responded, nervously, "I study other subjects at home. Read books and essays. Brush up on French and German as well as Latin. I guess I do spend a lot of time to myself during the holidays."

She cocked her head to one side. "You're very serious."

"I guess so."

"You're thirteen, right?"

"Yes, madam."

She smiled and gave a short burst of chuckle. "That's new. I've never been called 'madam' before."

"Miss Tapp, then?"

"Clarissa is fine." She sighed and continued, "My sister always used to tell me that Roger, Sirius' father, liked to study a lot. He tried to cram all this new knowledge into his head all at once. So did my sister. Do you know what?"

"What?"

"After all that learning, all those books, all those facts, they still couldn't figure out who they were."

"Who they were? They were Mr. and Mrs. Black, weren't they?"

She shook her head. "Those are names, that's not who they were. How can you know what you want if you don't even know who you are?" She placed a hand on my cheek and said quietly, "You're very smart. Sirius told me so. You're a little like them, very brainy. But, I want you to study yourself once in awhile. Find out what James Potter means to you. It won't take an afternoon of studying and you won't find it any book. It's just going to be you just looking for you. One of these days, far off, you're going to be asked who you are and you better have an answer."

I struggled for words. How was I supposed to find myself? Why did matter as long as I knew everything else? "I don't understand what you're asking me to do."

"Don't force it. Don't try to analyze this. Just let it come." She patted my cheek and smiled, ordering, "Now, go play."

*** ***

I was still lost in the cold January dreariness in Quesera. I had been wandering around aimlessly, much like that first visit all those years ago. Clarissa was gone now, I remembered, and that made me feel sad. Clarissa had always been this unstoppable force that no one, not even mad scientists, could topple. It was weird to think of her in past tense.

It was high time to ask for directions as much as I loathed to admit it. Wandering around lost was a bad idea in Quesera but admitting to it was even worse. I had to choose my guide carefully. I didn't really feel up to warding off a mugger or a drug dealer. I was in a residential area. The houses here never change except to look a little older, a little less loved. 

I saw a little girl in a second-hand red coat with red mittens and an orange scarf and hat with black ski pants tucked into large snow boots. To my surprise, she looked fairly clean but it was obvious that she did not always get three square meals every day. Her brown hair was done in two messy plaits behind her head. She was staring at a rock on the grass but she seemed to be using only her right eye to stare at it. She seemed harmless enough.

I walked towards her and she turned her face towards me. I realized immediately why she was using only her right eye. Her left eye was hidden behind an eye patch with sterile gauze underneath, pressing against the eye. From the looks of the eye patch, it had issued by a doctor, not found in a thrown-away pirate dress-up kit. The right eye was brown and staring intently at me.

I crouched to be eye-level with her and asked, "Do you know where Elliot Turner lives?" The girl blinked in response but said nothing. "Elliot Turner?" She stared blankly back and blinked again. "Elliot?" Blink. "Mr. Turner?" Blink. "The werewolf?" She held out her gloved hand. I grasped it and she pulled me along. 

Yes, Elliot Turner, Sirius' childhood neighbour, was a werewolf. Sirius didn't know until he was ten, when he sneaked into his house on a full moon to return a book. He barely got out alive. He didn't even tell us until we had found out for ourselves. During that first trip, he came over to ask Clarissa if he could "borrow Sirius". Naturally, the rest of us were curious of what Sirius was needed for so we followed them. Remus identified the problem at once: silver. Someone had placed a silver platter on Elliot's stoop. Presence of silver can make a werewolf feel ill and, if close enough and big enough, can make them throw up. Touching silver burns a werewolf's skin; luckily the scars heal fast. For years, Sirius had been continuously cleaning up silver from hoodlums wanting a laugh and selling it to the local pawn shop. Apparently, Elliot had spurned a local woman's attention and in frustration, he told her what he was as an excuse of why they couldn't date. She was a huge gossip and pretty soon, everyone in Quesera knew that Elliot Turner was the werewolf. Clarissa, however, never cared about his condition and helped out when kids would try to make his life miserable. Consequently, Clarissa was the only one of our guardians to know that Remus was a werewolf because she accidentally served silverware rather than steelware in order to impress us, her guests. Once she found out, she scolded Sirius for "embarrassing Remus" and asked him how he thought Elliot would feel if he had been in his place. I thought about Elliot being known as "the werewolf" a lot and it always made me upset. I would hate for Remus to just be "the werewolf" to some ignorant morons who can't see a decent person when they see one. That wasn't what he was in the end. 

The little eye-patch girl led me through the streets and the pathetic houses until I reached a place I finally recognized. This was it. To my left was Clarissa's house, or at least, it had been. It was a young couple's house now. I made a mental note to ask Sirius what their name was. There seemed to be no one home. I couldn't even see any curtains or furniture from the window. How odd. Across the street on our side was Elliot's house. It was like every other house in Quesera but it looked a little more cared for. Elliot was a clean-freak and obsessed with organization. 

I thought the girl would drop my hand once we reached the house and run away from the "scary werewolf who eats children" or whatever nonsense they were spreading nowadays but she pulled me up to the stoop and opened the door, hopping inside. 

"She must be back," I heard Elliot say. A chair scraped across the floor and he entered the narrow hall. Elliot was taller than I was. His impoverished lifestyle left him a little bony but he certainly wasn't starving to death. His brown hair was going grey, making him look ten years older than his thirty-seven years. Eye-patch girl ran up to him and clutched his pant leg, pointing at me.

He crouched to her level and to my amazement made weird hand signals to her while saying slowly, "Who is the man?" She shrugged and turned to go into the hall but he held her back. He gestured again as he spoke, "What did we talk about?" She shrugged. "You do not let strangers in. They wait outside." She began to gesture madly but she didn't speak in English, it came out as a number of grunts, whines, and groans. He held her hands and said firmly, "Stop." He let go of her hands and gestured quickly while saying, "Stop. Do not let strangers in the house again. They wait." The girl sighed and turned to go again but Elliot held her back and removed her hat. Catching the hint, the girl removed her mittens, her boots, her scarf, her coat, and finally her ski pants. All her winter gear gone, I could see she was wearing purple leggings and a blue jumper with a white turtleneck shirt underneath. Elliot nodded at her and she left.

As Elliot put the clothes back into his closet by the door, I asked, "Who is that?"

"A girl I adopted a few months ago." Seeing my confused expression, he elaborated, "Her parents were killed. They couldn't identify them or her so they couldn't find any relatives that she may have. She was in hospital for a month but no one stepped forward. So, since no one else seemed to know of her existence, I adopted her."

"Just like that?"

"They weren't thrilled at the prospect since I'm 'afflicted' but no one else wanted her and I did. I very nearly didn't get her at all but the staff decided that as long as I made every assurance that I wouldn't harm her, there was no reason that I couldn't. Oh, there were a few that venomously opposed the decision but the majority ruled. Of course," he added softly, "if someone does step forward and proves that they are related, I have to hand her over. And if I do harm her, I get sent to the Department for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"Did she take to you well?"

He shook his head. "Not really. The first couple of months, she kept running away. But, as it got colder, she ran away less frequently. She hasn't run off for over two months now. Now..." he looked to the hallway where Lily and Sirius' conversation could be heard. "I think she's starting to take a liking to me. She's starting to like it here."

"I think that's excellent," I replied. "What's her name anyway?"

"Clarissa."

"What?" My heart stopped beating for an instant. 

"Well, to be honest, that's just what I call her. As I said before, they couldn't identify her..."

"Why not? Doesn't she know her own name?"

"James," he answered, "haven't you figured it out? She's deaf. She can't hear. If she had a name, she never once heard it spoken to her. How would she know?"

"She's deaf? How do you communicate with her?"

"Well, at first, I just pointed and made up hand signals to bring across ideas. But, now, I take sign classes and so does she. So, that's how we communicate. I've also been teaching her how to read so I can finger spell as well. It's hard but I think it's worth it."

"When do you work?"

"During the day. She takes sign classes all day or stays at Lawrence's house. Then I take her home, we eat, and after that we take another sign class depending on what day it is. Once she masters sign, she can start speech courses."

"Speech?" He nodded. "Wow. This has to be stressful for you."

"It has its rewards. I have help. Most of her clothes are donated by Lawrence. His daughters have already outgrown those clothes and she needs them unlike the youngest, who won't need them for awhile yet."

It never once occurred to me that children need clothes. This information brought a whole new light to the parenting world. Clothes. Food. Toys. Beds. All this stuff cost money. "Oh my God. I only got seven months to prepare," I moaned.

Elliot laughed. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's not that bad. Besides, I had only one day to prepare for Clarissa. It was a nightmare. You have time, you'll do fine. Come in, Sirius and Lily are going to wonder where I ran off to."

We walked through the narrow hallway to the kitchen. The kitchen had a dingy table with only two chairs, which Lily and Sirius were sitting in. The cupboard doors were a faded olive color and the beige countertops were wiped off as best as possible. Elliot, during his youth, had not been allowed to go to Hogwarts so he still had to rely on Muggle tools. This meant he had a small olive Muggle fridge and gas oven. The floor was simply concrete and undecorated in any way. It was half the size of our kitchen and he didn't have a separate dining room (we do, but we're too lazy to actually use it daily). 

Currently, Clarissa was sitting in Sirius' lap, drinking milk from a plastic tumbler. Lily and Sirius were slowly devouring a cracked plate of shortbread biscuits as they chatted. Upon seeing me, Lily got up and ran over to me to hug me. I hugged her tightly back as Elliot skipped deftly out of the way. It was good to hold her after having to deal with the Chorda Caedes box. 

"Hello, James. Hi, Sirius. How are you doing? I'm great, you? I'm peachy," Sirius interrupted using his natural voice and his impersonation of mine. 

"You're not cute enough to hug," Lily replied, "I'm _special_."

Sirius made a face and placed his chin on Clarissa's head. "That's okay. Clarissa loves me, don't you?"

Clarissa didn't seem to agree. She wriggled out and went over to Elliot who was cleaning off Clarissa's tumbler and smiled at him. He handed her the wet tumbler and a towel and she dried it. Once this was done, she held it up. Elliot held up his fist and pointed his thumb up while saying, "Good." Clarissa set the tumbler on the countertop and placed her right hand in front her left hand and moved her right hand forward. Quickly, she brought her fists to her chest, stuck the thumb and little finger on both out and moved one up and one down and then reversed it. Elliot said, "Oh." He went to the fridge and took out a bottle of milk. He touched his index finger to his chin and thrust it forward and then touched all his fingers to his chin and thrust them out while saying, "Say please." Clarissa quickly repeated the last sign and he poured the milk into the tumbler. Clarissa then repeated the same gesture and took her drink and sat down in the empty chair. 

"Uh, why did she say please twice?" Lily asked.

" 'Please' and 'Thank you' are the same sign." He shrugged. "I didn't invent the signs." 

Since five people made the tiny kitchen rather cramped, we moved into the sitting room. The carpet was a light brown and of the most cheapest quality poverty can buy. The fireplace was undecorated and bland brick. There was a fire roaring in it and two vases and some pictures were the only things on the mantle. The vases obviously contained Floo Powder and Communication Powder. There were a couple of pictures of people I didn't recognize, presumably Lawrence's family, and one of Clarissa Tapp sitting on the swing out in his tiny backyard. The two couches were paisley-coloured and a few large claw marks ran along the material, showing the stuffing. The walls of the entire houses bore marks and missing chunks as well. All the windows and doors had numerous powerful locks as well. Sirius only managed to break in because he picked the lock of the first collection of locks. These locks are now gone. The house was air-tight during the full moon. Elliot had no where to go when he transformed. 

Sirius, Lily, and I sat on one couch while Elliot and Clarissa sat opposite us. It was now six o'clock. 

Clarissa reminded me of the house across the street. "Say, Sirius, what's the family that bought the house again?"

Sirius went pale. "The Garners?"

"Yeah, them. How are they, Elliot?"

There was a long pause in which Sirius and Elliot seemed to do silent battle to decide who was to speak first. Finally, Sirius sighed and answered, "They're dead."

"Dead?" Lily repeated in shock. "They just bought the house!"

"They lasted a week," Elliot explained. 

"How? What happened?" I asked.

"Death Eaters."

"My God..." Lily murmured. "Is she...?"

"No," Elliot answered, "she is not their daughter. They had no children. The hospital checked and their family did not claim Clarissa." Elliot stroked Clarissa's hair and she smiled up at him. "Kind of nice that's she's deaf right now. I doubt she'd like to hear this story again. I was coming home from work when I saw the Dark Mark over the house. However, I heard screaming, like that a small child. The door was busted down and I found her," he nodded to Clarissa.

"Why was she screaming?" Lily asked as I inquired, "Why was she in the house in the first place?"

"One at a time! Now, from what I could gather, Clarissa was the daughter of two homeless people. They were in the house as well as the Garners, dead. You two might not know this but homeless people usually stick to one place, the area around the house may have been their 'home' so to speak. Clarissa's parents may have seen the Death Eaters break and enter and saw the green flash. For reasons unknown, they entered the house, maybe to help the couple or maybe to rob them, I don't know. The Death Eaters most likely saw them and cast Avadra Kedvra on them as well."

"How come Clarissa was alive?" Lily interrupted. 

"We're not sure why they did not kill her with the Curse. Instead..."

"Wait, why are you saying 'they'? How do you know if there was more than one?" I asked.

"Clarissa has told me that there were two men. That's the most I've been able to pry out of her. She doesn't like to discuss it. Anyway, instead of using that curse, they used Conjunctivitis Curse. It causes irritation to the eyes. In humans, it causes the retina to burn and the blood vessels in the eye to explode." Lily and I winced. Elliot continued, "Luckily, they only hit one eye but she will be blind in that eye forever. It's pretty disgusting to look at right now but it will heal after some time. That's what the eye-patch is for. The gauze is catch any blood and prevent infection. Actually, the doctors told me that the curse is actually recommended for the defeat of a dragon. It hurts them greatly since the eyes are their weakest point but it's not permanent. It's fairly simple, a third-year Hogwarts student could do it." He coughed nervously and added, "Well, good to know in case you ever have to fight a dragon."

"Oh, yeah, Elliot," Sirius replied sarcastically, "happens to me all the time."

"Well, you never know. Anyway, I found her with her eye shot out and took her to hospital. There is also evidence that someone slammed her head against the wall repeatedly. There was a great deal of blood; she could have easily died in that house."

"Is that how she became deaf?" I asked.

"The doctors believe that she was born deaf. If she had become deaf, she would have noticed. She would have been pulling at her ears, shaking her head, stuff like that. She would have had some idea of words and sounds, she would have tried speaking. Clarissa made no sign that she could ever hear. She definitely noticed the loss of her eye. She panicked when she would close her right eye and not see with only her left eye open or when her range of sight was obviously cut in half. Being blind was new, being deaf wasn't."

"What happened to her parents?" Lily questioned.

"Buried in St. Mungo's cemetery. They are just numbers with death dates. 385 and 386."

"Wow," Lily replied sadly, "to be known as only a number and death date and nothing else."

"Will she call you 'Daddy'?" I wondered.

Elliot shook his head. "She'll call me 'Elliot'. I'm not going to pretend to be her real father. Besides, if her family does show up someday, it'll be easier."

"You have absolutely no faith, you do?" Sirius demanded.

"No, I guess not. I'm used to disappointment."

Lily looked up at the clock and announced, "Seven. We should get home."

"Yeah, it's late. Is it her bedtime?" I asked.

"Pretty soon. It's passed time for dinner as well." He pushed himself up and patted her back to indicate that she should get up. "Hungry?" he asked as his fist made a circle on his stomach. Clarissa got up and nodded vigorously. Sirius and Lily went to the door to ride on his motorcycle and I followed. Clarissa stopped and waved goodbye as Elliot translated, waving as well. 

I Apparated home and twenty minutes later, I heard the roar of Sirius' bike nearing our house as I finished preparing dinner. Lily rushed in and yelled, "Please say you made dinner! I'm starving."

"I did," I responded as Sirius bustled in. I heard him say, "Note to self: Bring coats along when running from evil cursed boxes." 

"Nice warm house again," Lily sang and then added quickly, "Where's the box?"

"At the Ministry. I destroyed it." I explained in further detail what I had learned that day at the meeting and how I finally eliminated the box itself. Lily gasped in horror as I explained the effects of touching the box.

"How could I have so stupid?" she finally replied. "I was just looking at that box all over. I could have been killed."

We started to eat when Sirius replied, "Elliot never told you why he chose the name Clarissa, did he?"

"Wasn't it because he found her in her old house?" Lily responded.

"No," Sirius answered, shaking his head, "when he was visiting her, he toyed with the idea of taking her in. They were about to send her to a children's home since no family members came up."

"So?"

"He heard Aunt Clarissa's voice, telling him to do it. It was like she was standing right there but there was no one there. That day, he asked. He feels that Little Clarissa should live on in Aunt Clarissa's memory."

A shiver ran down my spine. Lily replied, "She does look like your Clarissa, doesn't she?"

"I think so. Elliot thought it was stupid to go around telling people that. He only told me because he thought I'd care and believe him."

"Do you?"

"I don't know. But, I do like the idea of Clarissa somehow living on through others. Make me feel she was important somehow."

"She was important," I said quietly. 

Sirius stared out the window and Lily and I looked at each other. There was nothing we could say to make it better. We nearly leapt out of our skins when Sirius commented, "God, there are a lot of kids like her."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"In Quesera, there are so many orphans, so many abandoned children. They all live on the street, in the alleys, in condemned buildings. Dozens of them. It's beginning to spread to the rest of the Wizarding world. So many orphans, so many lost children." We didn't know how to respond to that. Sirius was still looking at the window, seeing a life we couldn't imagine. He continued, "Those kids grow up someday, you know. They grow up into teenagers and adults. Those little orphans are going to reach a point when they wonder who those parents were. Even if the entire world could give them all the facts and stories related to them, they'll never, ever know. And that, my friends, is the real tragedy of all this."

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: I didn't mean it to be this long! It just kept getting bigger and bigger! For some odd reason, the really scary and/or horrifying parts (Moody, the attack of the box, description of Quesera) were much easier to write than the cute stuff (Big Clarissa, Little Clarissa). The scene where James talks with Aunt Clarissa is based on a song by Jewel called "Do You Want to Play?" It really describes Clarissa and James. Anyway, it's kind of funny, Little Clarissa reminds me strongly of Chloe from Caitlyn's "Lessons For Life". She's not inspired by her at all, I thought up Clarissa before reading the fic or working on the unofficial sequel. I have to admit, there are similarities and it makes me laugh anyway. She's like Chloe gone horribly wrong and raised by Remus in the ghetto! The idea of dementors being thought as humane and introduced to eliminate torture in Azkaban is stolen from Catherine's "My Time In Azkaban" that is on sugarquill.net which is a very good fic that you should read at all costs. I thought it was a wonderful theory so I used it, my apologies to Catherine. In case you didn't know "Quesera" means "what will be" from the phrase "quesera, sera" which means "what will be, will be". That is why the chapter is called that. "Chorda Caedes" means "string (as in catgut, musical string)" and "cutting down, killing, slaughter", in case you're wondering. I'd like to thank www.britishsignlanguage.com for providing signs for certain words because I barely know American Sign Language, much less British Sign Language. 

Oh, at the time of writing, the release of Book Five has just been announced! I'm so happy but it gives me a deadline. I have to finish this before it comes out! Let's see if I can do it! I'd really love a review or an e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! Tell me what you think of my story! Ask questions! Flame me! Recommend fics to me! I don't care, just tell me someone is reading! See ya later! 


	10. An Offer That Can't Be Refused

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Ten: An Offer That Can't Be Refused

January had shifted over into February and seemed like the winter would never end. Lily was beginning to pass into her second trimester, which everyone from the doctor to my co-workers assured us was the easiest part of the pregnancy. The waters of time seemed to be still but it was not long before the noise of monsoons could be heard.

It was late, very late at night during the first week of February. I was sleeping when I awoke with a start. I had not been dreaming. I didn't need to use the restroom. I didn't have a knife plunged into my chest. I listened for what had woken me.

Bang. There it was. Bang. And again, that noise. It was coming from downstairs, probably the kitchen. Putting on my glasses, I rose from the bed and grabbed my wand. I descended the stairs to investigate and eliminate this issue.

Yawning, I crept towards the kitchen and found Sirius in his pajamas, holding a Quidditch bat, poised in a battle stance. Before I could ask what in the world did he think was doing, he cried, "Duck!" and a small, hard thing hit the side of my head. Reeling from the blow, I crashed into the wall, dazed. The blur of grey shot at Sirius who struck it with the bat. It flew off at an angle, bouncing off the kitchen walls. 

"What is that?" I demanded.

"A bullet owl," Sirius responded with distaste. 

I had heard of bullet owls but had never seen or been hit by one before. Bullet owls are small, about the size of two cupped hands. They look like the cross between a Golden Snidget and a regular post-owl. They are completely grey or black. These have horrible temperaments and particularly vicious. They survive in the most terrible conditions imaginable, living among dementors or Basilisk dens. Most famously, however, is that the followers of Lord Voldemort usually send these owls to deliver recruitment messages to those they wish to include.

"Is it... does it... ?" I couldn't bring myself to suggest such a notion to Sirius.

"Yes, it has a message for me. No, I didn't open it because I already knew what it said. I figure that if I kill it, it won't return with the letter unopened. They'll think it just died in transit."

"Bullet owls are nearly impossible to kill."

"You think?" Sirius asked sarcastically, "I've only been trying to whack its brain out for the past hour! It won't die!"

I ran for the other bat in the kit at top speed. Once retrieved, I jumped downstairs just as the owl flew at me. I smacked it with all my might, launching back into the kitchen. Sirius slammed the bat against the owl, propelling it towards the wall again. We were then engaged in a bizarre Beater practice, shooting the owl back and forth to each other. The owl screeched its vulture-like call with each blow. After awhile, it started to try to attack us rather than deliver its message, which was still attached to its claws. 

It fluttered and screeched around downstairs, trying to escape. We continued to smack it with the bats with more vigor. Finally, to our dismay, it flew up the chimney and flew out of the house. 

Sirius fell to his knees. "Damn it!" he screamed. I hushed him, Lily was still asleep. He ignored me, stating, "It's the third attempt." 

"The third attempt?"

"I refused every time. They'll punish me now, won't they?"

I didn't reply. It was common knowledge that the Death Eaters would try three times to recruit someone. After the third refusal, they seem to vanish and leave the person alone. What they actually do is wait six months for the person to change their mind. If they don't, they randomly select a person close to one who refused, it can be a parent, a lover, or a best friend, and the loved one pays the consequences. 

It was my father who ended up paying the bill for me.

*** ***

Being pure-blood, it would seem obvious that I would join up. I had power, I had a respectable lineage, why wouldn't I? That's what they thought, the Death Eaters. They didn't realize that I didn't support this horror. It was wrong and no argument could justify it for me. I have my guesses on who of my former playmates turned to Lord Voldemort's service but I won't waste the ink.

It began with the dreams. The nightly taunts and temptations. I had a sort of advisor who led me through the terror. At first, he was very nice and sweet about it. He showed me my library, crammed with every book I had every read in my lifetime.

"You're very clever, Mr. Potter, you know that?"

"I suppose so."

"Head Boy and everything," he would say with astonishment, "how many can claim that prize? Not many," he added, shaking his head, "not many, my friend."

He led me farther down the path in this weird dream world. He showed me a large pile of gold and silver, my Gringotts account. Before my eyes, coins rained heavily down on the already massive pile. "Mr. Potter, what wealth you possess! You could buy and sell the world five times at least. That's not even including your inheritance when your father finally dies."

"I never thought of it like that."

"The Potters are one of the richest families if not _the_ richest family!"

He led me farther along as my defenses weakened. He showed me Lily, in a smooth, sexy dress, giving me a "come-hither" look as she lay on a satin bed. 

"My, what a fine taste in women you have! Look at that perfectly portioned frame. Those legs, those arms, that shimmering hair, those emerald eyes. Forget Helen of Troy, this is the face that would sail a thousand ships! Men would build her palaces to spend a day with her, you know that! She is yours..."

Aroused by the sight before me since Lily didn't exactly have _that_ look everyday, I merely nodded in response. My guide added sharply, "But for how long?"

"Forever, of course!" I replied.

He laughed. "Don't be so naive, Mr. Potter! Look at her, doesn't she deserve the best man available? Oh, yes, you have wisdom and wealth but for a woman such as she, that is not enough! You must be knock out all competition, leave no doubt in her mind that you are her only equal, no one else!"

"How?"

"You must have power, my friend. Power and influence to make your wife a queen. With power, she will declare, 'That is _my_ husband' and she will be forever yours. Join my master. He will grant you the power you seek."

For a second, I was sucked in. I nearly agreed but I came to my senses. All of this was illusion, all his words were false. I refused to join.

The dreams changed their tune. My guide reminded me of my former days as the tormented little runt.

"Never truly got away from that, did you, Mr. Potter?" he remarked scathingly. "Pathetic."

He would continue, bringing up images of my friends. "They pity you, you know. Sad, sad little James who can't make any friends on his own. They certainly don't _like_ you at the very least. Always the wet towel, always having to have Sirius to bail you out of trouble. How disgusting you are to them. Utterly unbearable."

My heart seemed to bleed when he conjured up Lily. She was no longer sexy and inviting but she seemed to shrug away with disgust. "Let's not even _pretend_ with your 'wife'. This whole charade with her is completely one-sided. She does not love you. She loves your money. But," he added with a sick smile, "she is growing bored with you. Bored out of her skull. You better not be surprised because, after all, you were always the one no one liked. Why should this be different? Revolting how you continue to love her so."

"She does love me," I argued, half-heartedly. "I know she does."

He laughed. "How pathetic can you be, Mr. Potter? She certainly hasn't been faithful to you, that's for sure." My heart stopped cold and couldn't breathe. He laughed harder. "The husband is always the last to know, isn't that the saying? But, I must ask, don't you agree that Remus and Lily make a cute couple?"

"Shut up!" I cried through my tears.

"Well, I certainly do. Although, in a pinch, Sirius and Lily wouldn't be a bad match." He paused, apparently deep in thought. Slowly, he commented, "But Peter and Lily isn't half bad. I see the merits, don't you?" I merely moaned in reply. "Oh, don't think she hasn't tried them all. Several times each, I must say. Along with a few others you don't even know about. But, I still think Remus and Lily is the best pair. Care to argue otherwise?"

"Shut up! Leave me alone!"

"Mr. Potter, this is the sort of behavior I'm talking about. Lily isn't gone forever."

"I love her," I sadly said.

"I know you do. Believe me, I know you do. But what can you do about this? Lily is clearly not interested but she can't leave you, can she? Still needs the money, doesn't she?"

"I don't care," I mumbled.

"Ah, but you do care, I completely sympathize," he said softly. "You want Lily back. Actually, you just plain want Lily since you didn't have her before. But how to tempt her to you? Money and knowledge wasn't the way to go and you certainly aren't the most desirable man alive, so that's out. What's left? What could Lily possibly desire that you can feasibly grant?"

"I don't know. I'm useless," I admitted.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter. There is something. _Power_. Lily desires a man with limitless power and influence. You are still that little runt from childhood, how pathetic. It's time to stand up and show her what a man you are. Show her that infidelity to you should be inconceivable. With power at your disposal, she'll come running to be at your side. Not only will you have Lily, you will have respect and authority. You will rise through society and show up your tormentors. No one will ever dare mock or demean you again. Join my master. Join and all your dreams will come true. Or would you rather be a pathetic little child for the rest of your days."

My heart broken and my self-esteem shattered, I managed somehow to retain a grip on my morals. "I may not have Lily's heart but I still have one to give her. No, I will not join your master."

These dreams had a significant psychological impact on me. The dreams lasted for months at a time before finally asking me to join those two times I have shown you. This is their purpose, of course. Without realizing it, I turned a cold shoulder to Lily for her supposed betrayal. Also, I began to suspect my friends and my co-workers of ulterior motives. Once the dreams stopped, I began to regain my senses. Once I did, I realized that Lily was crushed at my harshness with her for the past few months. I never told Lily about the Death Eaters trying to recruit me in my sleep, I merely made a lame excuse that I kept having dreams about Lily cheating on me and I had started to confuse dreams with actual events. 

In early May, I had forgotten to renew my Apparation license so I had to walk home before I had a free day to actually go about renewing it. It had been a month since I had refused a second time and my senses and feelings were now under my control. I was walking along the secluded pathways when I sensed someone behind me. I turned around to face a man in a black hooded robe, the hood obscuring his face.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my hand going towards my wand. "What do you want?"

"Who I am is not important," he answered cryptically, "and I merely wish to speak to you, James Potter." His voice was weird and distorted. Obviously, he had placed a scrambling charm on his voice so I wouldn't be able to identify him.

"I do not wish to speak to you," I replied sharply. 

"It would be wise to hear what I have to say. I do not yet wish you harm but if you refuse to stay and listen, I will be forced to become violent."

"I do not want to hear what you have to say. Do your worst to me, I don't care," I pronounced bravely.

"I will not harm you. Your wife, however, is another matter."

"What do you mean?"

"My fellow Death Eaters are stationed near your house. If you do not speak to me, I will order them to torture your Mudblood wife."

"You're bluffing."

"Perhaps I am. But suppose I'm not. How fast could you get there on foot? Are you willing to gamble your wife for a few moments' peace?"

Mentally kicking myself for the fiftieth time for not renewing my license, I answered, "Talk quickly."

"Very well, I do not wish to detain you more than I have to. You have refused to serve in Lord Voldemort's service two times before, do you deny that?"

"No, and I won't join this time either."

"Well, consider this. Our main targets are Muggles and Mudbloods. Your wife is a Mudblood of the worst kind, marrying a pureblood such as yourself."

"That doesn't matter to me!"

"You speak too quickly, James Potter. You should hear what I have to say. We are willing to make an exception in some cases. Your wife is a promising and powerful witch, regardless of her roots. It would be a benefit to have her live a long life."

"What's your point?"

"If you join us, there will be no reason for your wife to die. She and your children will live undisturbed for the rest of their days. Refuse our charity," he snapped, "and all of you will die and know misery before your final hour."

"So, my choices are sell my soul or die, is that it?"

"Precisely. The choice is yours. You can not truly condemn your own family, can you?"

"If I spare them and myself," I replied harshly, "the cost is unforgivable. No, I refuse your master and will continue to refuse your master."

The hooded man said nothing, just shook his head slowly. Finally, he said, "You are a fool, James Potter. I will keep my promise. My men will not attack your wife today. We will depart for now. You have six months to reconsider your choices. I would advise you to think again. Farewell, James Potter." He Apparated and I continued home. Lily had seen no one suspicious that day. 

May, June, July, August, September, and finally October. Six months passed and I heard and saw nothing unusual. I felt safe. That's always the way they operated. They chose completely at random, my father would have been the last person I would have thought of to truly hurt me. But it did. 

Yes, they are very good at what they do.

*** ***

"Do you..." Sirius asked softly, "think anyone else... has this problem?"

"Like who?" 

"Well, did they ask you for instance?"

"Yeah."

"Dreams and all that?"

"Yeah."

"Hate those things. I thought you stole something of mine for weeks. Finally found it under my bed," Sirius added with a slight smile. 

"I thought Lily was having an affair with all of you," I remarked lightly.

"With me?"

"Remus, you, Peter. And some strangers my mind invented to spice things up."

Sirius chuckled. "Sorry, I'm having a hard time imagining Peter and Lily sneaking off together. Nothing against Peter or anything, it's just weird."

"What about Remus?"

"That would be like a brother and sister dating, okay? It's practically incest."

"And you?"

"We'd kill each other in under ten minutes," Sirius laughed. "I mean, we're great friends and everything but we drive each other up the wall. Besides, I don't see her that way. It would be like dating a female you or Remus. It would be too weird."

"But say I just dropped dead one day, what would you do?" I asked hypothetically.

"Bury you." I laughed as he added, "I mean, come on, I can't just leave your body to rot on the carpet!"

"That isn't what I meant."

"Would I date her? No way. Remus..." he said, tilting his head to one side, "I can sort of see him going for Lily. And that's a big _sort of_. If every woman and every man but them was dead, I could see it. But only then. Like I said, they're like brother and sister."

"You forgot Peter, Sirius," I remarked.

"Peter wouldn't even think about it. Neither would I. We just don't see her that way. Remus doesn't even think of her that way. I don't even think I ever even noticed she was a girl until you started dating her."

"What did you think she was?"

"I don't know. I didn't know you even liked her before that. I thought you wanted," he sighed longingly, "Camilla Yellowbird."

"Who?"

Sirius was astonished. "Camilla Yellowbird! The Hufflepuff! She was in our year. You sat by her during Herbology, don't you remember?"

"No, I don't. Should I?"

"Yes, James. She only was the most desired girl in the entire school."

"I totally don't remember her at all."

"James, she had the biggest chest in the entire school. She was bigger than the biggest seventh-years during third year! And she never once wore a bra! How can you not remember her?" 

I shrugged. "But why did you think I wanted her?"

"You always seemed to stare at her during Herbology. Well, every boy in the room did too so I wasn't surprised."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, remembering, "I only stared at her so it wouldn't be so obvious that I was staring at Lily. I barely knew who was I looking at!"

Sirius appeared to be absolutely stunned. "My God, James, you have some tunnel vision, you know that? How could you completely miss her?"

"Well, I don't really like them that big, I guess. Maybe it never turned me on or something."

"They weren't real, you know," a voice interrupted.

We glanced up and Lily saw looking at us from the kitchen, munching on a carrot.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, "did we wake you?"

"Well, you two are pretty loud. I was hungry anyway."

"How long have you been there?" Sirius demanded.

"Hm... since you two were discussing how Remus dating me would be like incest. I have no idea why you were discussing that but I really don't care at this point."

"So, what's this about Camilla's you-know...?" Sirius prompted.

"Her older sister was in Gryffindor. She gathered us all around one night to soothe our fears about our boys being taken away by her sister. At Hogwarts, she used an illusion that she found in one of their mother's magazines or something. During the summer, she stuffed her blouses with water balloons. And, yes, she wore a bra."

"I'm so disappointed," Sirius sighed. "Isn't anything genuine anymore?"

"So, James, here, got the real deal. No illusions or potions needed to enhance my feminine charms, isn't that right?"

"But it wouldn't hurt," Sirius joked.

"Shut up!" Lily laughed. 

"Besides," Sirius went on, "maybe he missed her because he was too busy leaving his glasses behind to impress you, Lily!"

"Hey!" I objected, "that was once!"

"I still remember it," Sirius said, " 'I don't really need them anyway', my foot. You were blind as a bat. We practically had to be a large group of guide dogs for you that day!"

"You didn't exactly help any!" I accused Lily, who was chortling, " 'Oh, your eyes are so pretty.'"

"They were and they still are, James," Lily replied in a soothing voice.

"Practically encouraged me, you did. Only did it for you, after all!" I snapped back. 

"I can still remember the assignment. Turn a white slip of parchment into a red rose. What's he do? Turn his white quill into a red rose! It was priceless, dew and everything! Very impressive, Mr. Potter," Sirius joked. 

"She didn't have to make me do that bloody eye exam in front of everyone! Pure torture that was! I was never so embarrassed in my life."

"Remus tried to help," Lily added softly.

"Just got us in trouble!" I corrected. "Were you even impressed, Lily? Honestly?"

"Not really," she admitted. Sirius laughed as I sulked. 

"Speaking of James doing stupid stuff," Sirius began. 

"Let's not," I replied.

He ignored me. "Remember when you suggested that James had to speak twenty times a day?"

"I do! It worked too! Everyone started to make goals as well. It was fun."

"Not for me," I interrupted, "having everyone tally up how many times I spoke per day."

"But it made you open up. Remember those 'Free Five Minutes'? Didn't you enjoy those?"

"I felt really stupid," I grumbled.

"You liked it, admit it," Sirius taunted. 

"It's really weird to be forced to speak when you have nothing to say and then timed on top of it," I explained.

"I enjoyed them at least, it was fun. You had lots of things to say once you got going. That was the whole point," Lily concluded. She yawned. "We should stop rehashing our school days and go back to bed."

"Alright, you head on up, I'll be there soon," I replied. Lily stepped upstairs as Sirius and I lapsed into silence.

"Who do you think they'll pick?" Sirius asked, worry clearly on his face.

"I really couldn't say. I would have never guessed my father but there you have it."

"I don't want anyone to die."

"Neither do I. But, I think, it is better to die with on the side of right than live on the side of evil."

"Perhaps," was all Sirius said. 

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: What is it with Sirius ending these chapters saying cryptic stuff? I don't know. This is a fairly short chapter, I'm astonished. The last two bits with James not wearing his glasses and making James talk were from earlier chapters but didn't fit. I always wanted to introduce them so here they are. Anyway, I would really like a review. Just push the button or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com

See ya later!


	11. Mixed Blessings

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Eleven: Mixed Blessings

The day had finally come. The owl had finally delivered that fateful letter, that long-awaited message that everyone who worked in the Muggle Affairs Department was looking forward to.

"James!" Lily shouted happily as she read the post, "Arthur and Molly had their kid!"

"When?" I asked, as I ate a piece of toast.

"Last night. 'Arthur and Molly Weasley announce the birth of their sixth child and son at eleven o'clock at night on the first day of March. Baby Weasley is yet to be named.' Isn't that wonderful?"

"Probably be in the Prophet in a couple of days, won't it?" Sirius asked, yawning. 

"This is wonderful. I'm sure they're very happy with him. What do you think they'll name him?" Lily wondered aloud.

"How about Arthur?" I suggested.

"No, he told me he'd never name a child after himself or Molly. Maybe for a middle name but not a first name."

"Molly wouldn't know who to yell for," Sirius added, his mouth full.

"How about Henry?" Lily suggested. "We could name our baby Henry, James."

"No way. Hate that name," I replied. 

"How about," Sirius answered with a hint of a smile, " 'This is the last one'?"

"Ha ha. Very funny," Lily responded sarcastically, hitting him a spoon. 

"Well, think about it! Six kids! I don't think you two would want six kids, would you?"

"Well... maybe..."

"And be pregnant six times?"

"Five. They had twins."

"Oh... big difference," Sirius remarked while rolling his eyes. 

"I'm leaving," I called out to avert disaster. "I'll congratulate him if I see him there, okay?"

*** ***

"Can't believe it, can you?"

"Unreal! Never thought he would..."

"Always the quiet ones."

"But he was such a bootlicker!"

"All a front! Who knows how long he was doing it?"

"What's Crouch gonna do? After all, we know he was..."

"Quesera trash is what he was! Knowing Crouch, he'll throw him in prison so fast, he won't even know he's there until nightfall!"

"Who's Quesera trash?" I interrupted the mad chatter in the work place. The bubbling rumble quieted down slowly as I took off my cloak.

"Well, didn't you...?" One of my co-workers, a man named William Gladys, began to ask but then corrected himself, "Obviously not since you're asking. Didn't you notice something odd about the Magical Law Enforcement Offices?"

"I don't really pay attention."

"You didn't notice someone missing?" I shook my head. "Nothing caught your attention?"

"Well, you guys talking certainly did. What happened? Who's missing? Did someone die?"

A woman named Doris Greenhill scoffed. "He might as well be! Percy Weatherby's gone, didn't you notice?" I shook my head. "Apparently, the Aurors caught a tip from one of their spies and raided a huge gamut of Death Eaters killing a whole block of Muggles. Percy Weatherby was with them, leading them."

"You're kidding! He works under Crouch in the Magical Law Enforcement, practically worships the guy!"

"I guess that's not quite true. As soon as they caught him, he admitted everything. Proudly. Real hard-core supporter of You-Know-Who."

"Percy Weatherby? He has to be under the Imperius Curse."

"It doesn't look like it. He's the real deal."

Another woman, Florence O'Reilly, added, "He doesn't even want a defense lawyer. I feel bad for his wife. My brother brought her to see him and Percy practically threw her out!"

"Isn't he married to that author? Virginia...?" Gladys asked.

"Virginia Lenore, yeah, that's her. I guess she had no clue this was going on. My brother says she was pretty shocked and horrified by her husband's behavior. It wasn't the nicest meeting he'd ever seen. But, get this, she brought bail for Percy, you know? But he wouldn't take it because 'he's loyal to his Master'. Anyway, before she saw him, some guy begged her to convince them to let him out because he was just a poor man with a wife and tiny kids. Well, she gave him bail, telling him to go home to his family!"

"Wow," another woman, Robin Rogers, gasped, "that's amazing. How did Percy get such a woman?"

A man, George Mill, asked suddenly, "Didn't Arthur Weasley in Muggle Artifacts have a baby last night?"

"Yeah," I answered, "he had a boy."

"I wonder if he knows?"

O'Reilly explained, "He probably does. Mrs. Weatherby was watching their kids while they were at St. Mungo's. An Auror had to stay behind to watch as she went to see Percy. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that an Auror is a bad sign if he's at your house."

"Man, could you imagine? 'Congrats, Mr. Weasley, you have a beautiful baby boy and psycho Death Eater cousin!' I bet he's having the time of his life," Ernie Booth joked sarcastically. 

"What I want to know is how could Virginia _not_ notice that her husband was going around killing and torturing people? I mean, she lived with him! How could someone be so dumb?"

Several more times, an unknowing co-worker would step in the office and ask what all the fuss was about and the whole conversation would start all over again. One by one, we drifted to our separate work stations and pondered how crafty Death Eaters could disguise themselves. 

*** ***

A few days later, the Longbottom's son, Neville, was born. Since Olivia was very good friends with Lily, we got invited to Neville's birth celebration. Lily was terribly excited since they were old school friends and desperately needed to know what she was going to be in for.

Around this time, our baby finally decided to make its presence known to the world. To our delight, the baby had started to kick periodically and Lily could feel it shift and squirm inside her. We probably drove Sirius to the brink of madness in our excitement over this new development.

"Come here. It's kicking!"

"That's nice."

"Oh, it's doing it again! Over here! Feel."

"No, once is enough."

And then he would quickly find something to do in another room as we squealed with delight. 

This was all well and good but Lily had to put aside her nicer clothes for some older, less-fashionable, looser clothes since the bulge made anything else uncomfortable. Lily knew that there was no point in buying most of the maternity stuff because she wasn't large enough to really need the special clothes. However, Lily noted to her dismay that all her clothes were...

"Ugly! These are all ugly! I can't wear these to their house!"

"I think they look alright," I said softly. "They understand you can't fit into anything else."

"I can't wear any of my nice clothes. They hurt too much!"

"Then wear the other things."

"But they're ugly."

"They're not ugly. Look," I called out to Sirius who happened to be passing by, "Sirius, tell us, are Lily's maternity clothes ugly?"

His face betrayed him and Lily started to cry. "He agrees with me! They're ugly."

"Well, they're not going to be on any runway soon," he quickly amended but that made her cry harder. "Can't you just modify your nice clothes?"

"What if I screw up?" Lily wailed. 

"Then James can do it, can't he?"

"I can make her clothes bigger in general but her clothes fit everywhere but her stomach," I explained, nervously, rubbing Lily's shoulders, "I don't know how to do specialized Engorgement charms. And her stuff is so delicate, it might warp or something."

"Then call your mum, James," he suggested, leaning against the doorframe, "She must've done it at some point."

Finding no other choice, I contacted my mother on the fireplace. "Mother?"

"James! What's wrong? Is Lily alright?"

"No, everything's fine," I explained quickly before my mother panicked. "It's just... Lily needs some help with something. Can you come over for awhile?"

"Of course. I'll be right there." She Apparated outside the door and I let her in. "What's the matter?"

"It's Lily's clothes. All her nice things don't fit around her... you know..."

"I understand."

"I don't know how to do a specialized Engorgement charm and her clothes are so fancy and I don't want to ruin her clothes."

My mother laughed. "This is not a problem. Where is she? I'll teach you how." I led her upstairs to our bedroom where Lily sat on the bed, sniffling as Sirius offered outfits that weren't that bad in her "ugly" collection but she shook her head at every suggestion. 

"Lily dear?" my mother called as she walked into the room.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter," Lily said brighter than before, wiping her eyes. "I don't know why I started crying like that."

"It's perfectly alright. Let's see those clothes you want to alter, Lily. James, come watch." I went in to learn how to change Lily's outfits as Lily went to take out all her clothes. My mother finally noticed Sirius standing by the door, probably to watch as well in case he was ever called on to do this for Lily. "Why, hello, Remus."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Exasperated, I corrected her, "Sirius, Mother. He's Sirius. Remus is not even in the country right now."

Sirius smiled weakly. "Hello, Mrs. Potter. How are you?"

"I'm very well. How are you?"

"Fine enough."

*** ***

Once that debacle was over and Lily had some nice clothes to wear, we felt confident enough to go to the Longbottom's celebration. It was a nightmare getting there, however. Their house was not known to Muggle taxi drivers and had a barrier that made Muggles feel that they had something very important to do elsewhere. We had to take a taxi only partway there and then ride a broomstick the rest of the way, feeling very silly all the while.

But we managed without too much embarrassment. When we arrived, Olivia greeted us happily with open arms. The minute we stepped in the door, she began a long string of chatter that only a woman could produce. How Lily could follow and keep up was beyond me. 

"How are you two? You look great, Lily! How far along are you? I bet you're excited. I was sure excited when I found out. That's a great outfit! Did you have to do an Engorgement charm or did it come that way? I'm not saying that to be mean or anything but I know how _none_ of my clothes would fit without a charm..." I have no idea how that woman could still breathe and Lily seemed to able to talk just as fast, answering Olivia's questions as fast as she could ask them. 

Olivia led us into the sitting room where the other guests were gathered, chattering happily with one another. The centerpiece was a bassinet on the table, containing a bundle of blue blankets.

"There he is!" Olivia announced proudly, "Our little Neville. He's a big one, ain't he? Eight pounds! He took forever to come out. He came a week late, you know."

"Oh, he's precious, Olivia," Lily breathed, "Was the birth hard?"

"He took _forever_. Well, first, I had a false alarm. I had contractions for awhile but after an hour, nothing. So, they sent me home. As soon as we got home, my water broke! So, we had to go all the way back to St. Mungo's and then he took the longest time! Of course, there was that little hiccup but..."

"What little hiccup?" I asked, sitting down on the couch. 

"It's taken care of," Frank Longbottom answered, stepping into the room with Alastor Moody as his heels. "He won't be doing that again."

"What happened?" Lily demanded.

"Oh, some Death Eater pretended to be a doctor and nearly led me away to inject some weird poison in me. He said our doctor was with another woman but I saw him going down another hall so I screamed for Frank." She shrugged. "Frank took care of it. No big deal."

The whole room was stunned into silence. Finally a woman I didn't know replied, "Olivia, that's more than a little hiccup."

"You and Neville could have been in real trouble!" A man near her cried out.

"Oh, how stupid do you think I am? I was beginning to think he was pretty odd before I saw Doctor Marshall. I can defend myself," she said with a smile. 

Most of the room gave each other looks of disbelief. Those of us who knew what Olivia really did for the side of right smiled slightly to each other. I told you she was a great actress. Nothing fazed her in the slightest. 

"Well, it's good you noticed before it was too late," Moody growled. "That was a dangerous position to be in."

"It's over. Everyone should just calm down." Olivia went to the bundle. "Now, who wants to hold Neville?" She picked him up and rocked from side to side.

An old woman with a stern face remarked sharply, "Olivia! You're holding that boy wrong!"

"Am I, Mrs. Longbottom?" 

"My goodness, you silly girl. Support the neck, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"Like this?" Olivia asked, supporting the neck more than before. 

"I guess that will do for now."

I remembered Mrs. Longbottom from my youth. Always had something to criticize about everyone and always seemed to know what was best for anyone. She was a domineering woman who scared anyone within range. I'm not saying she's an evil, cold-hearted woman but she definitely had a rough and raw edge about her. 

Soon, women gathered around Olivia taking turns holding the little boy as the men stood off, voicing their opinions on how well Neville appeared or who he resembled most. Finally, Olivia wanted Neville back in her arms and held him to her.

"Don't grip him so tight, Olivia!" Her mother-in-law ordered sharply.

"Yes, Mrs. Longbottom," she sighed. "Well, I'll put him back in the bassinet for a bit." She went towards the bassinet but tripped. Neville went flying up into the air like a cat. The women screamed but Frank quickly took out his wand and cried, "Leviosa!" Neville was held suspended in midair. This woke him from his doze and he started to scream and wriggle madly in the air. 

"Neville!" Olivia cried, plucking him out of the air, drawing him close to her chest in order to comfort him. "I'm so sorry. Mummy tripped over her own feet. Don't cry, Mummy's got you now."

"You clumsy woman!" Mrs. Longbottom screamed, "Don't you _ever_ watch where your feet are going? This is the fifth time you have done that since that boy was born. You'll be the death of the poor dear!"

"Olivia, love, it's okay," another old woman responded, presumably Olivia's mother, "Frank caught him."

"Lucky he did! Who knows what would have happened?"

"Mother!" Frank interrupted sharply, "Leave Olivia alone. She feels bad enough without you informing her of her lack of grace."

"Thank you, Frank," Olivia replied, kissing the now-calm and again slumbering Neville on the head. 

Mrs. Longbottom's mouth went into a thin line but she said calmly, "I'm sorry for yelling at you. Just be more careful and watch where you're going."

"I'll take my grandson for a minute, Olivia dear," the other woman offered. Olivia gingerly placed Neville in her mother's arms with a long sigh. Frank leaned down to whisper to the other men, "Those two have been at each other's throats all week. They don't usually get along." 

The rest of the celebration continued without any more problems except Mrs. Longbottom's insistence to correct everything Olivia did as her mother told her that she was doing alright. 

As we heading home, Lily reflected to me, "Thank goodness your mother isn't that nasty to me!"

*** ***

A few days later, the Weasleys invited guests to their home to see their new-born son, who had been named Robert. As expected, barely anyone from the Weasley side of the family showed up. Arthur had seven siblings, at this point only three remained, the others lost to the streets of Quesera or dead. The two oldest and the two twins were named after lost family members. Bill or William was named after Arthur's late father. Charlie or Charles was named after one of his older brothers. Fred or Frederick and George are named after the first and middle names one of the younger brothers. Little Percy was named after Percy Weatherby, his cousin. I have no idea why Robert was named that for it had no significance to the family. 

The atmosphere in the household was a little somber. Percy had been very close to the family and the fact that he was a proud, card-carrying Death Eater was devastating. From what I know, when Arthur and Molly married and moved into Molly's family's farm, the Burrow, Arthur let Percy come and live with them until he finished school. Arthur, a full-fledged wizard, could help him with his summer school work and the Burrow could offer him a decent place to live outside of Quesera. Percy accepted and lived with them for many years until he married Virginia and moved out on his own. So, that betrayal of trust must have cut very deep into Arthur's heart. 

The three siblings left were Bilius, a wizard, was the oldest living sibling who worked for a book publishing company. Stuart, another wizard who lived with a Muggle woman, was a postal worker in Diagon Alley. Berenice, the only sister remaining, was a Squib and, by the looks of her lounging in a chair, had not succeeded in life. Molly's family members were numerous and I never caught all their names. They were a rowdy and happy bunch but they seemed to be wary of Berenice with her glassy-eyes and scowling expression. Bilius and Stuart, in contrast, got along with the Roche family very well. Along with the families were Arthur and Molly's neighbours and friends, including us.

But if Berenice was ignored, Virginia Weatherby was avoided by a wide arc. Virginia hid in a corner, sitting on a lonely hard-backed wooden chair, half in shadow and nearly out of the room. It wasn't until Lily and I had been in the house for a few minutes before I even realized she was present in the house. 

She looked completely different. I had to take a second glance to make sure it was really her. She was without her notebook, instead staring blankly at the festivities around her. Everyone, in order to be polite, went over to greet her but her responses were monosyllabic and they quickly left the area. She seemed to have shrunken and aged ten years since December. Her entire facial expression was dull and shadowed, as if she had not been sleeping all too well. She was deathly pale and a little green around the gills, to use a phrase. It was like she was a completely different woman. 

I went over to her and smiled. She slowly raised her eyes and it seemed to take her great effort to say, "Hello, James."

"Hi, Virginia."

"How are you?" she asked automatically. I don't think she was even listening to herself.

"I'm fine." I wanted to ask if she was alright but that would be terribly cruel. I drew up a chair and sat beside her. We sat in silence, me looking at her, she staring at the wall. Finally, she mumbled, "Lily is showing."

"Yes," I half-brightly replied, "she is."

"You must be happy," she droned in monotone.

"Yes, we're looking forward to our child."

She gave a slight smile and said mostly to herself, "Percy wanted me to get pregnant. He was so upset at Christmas when Arthur called all the women over. Percy glared at me but I couldn't sit on his knee because I wasn't pregnant. All he wanted was a child. A pure-blood child."

"It's lucky that you didn't."

"Lucky am I?" She asked sarcastically. 

"You have no strings binding you to him. He doesn't affect you."

She wearily brought her head up to look at me. "Well," she breathed, "I never had his child, did I? And I never shall." 

Bill came over to her and touched her shoulder. She shivered and turned around to look at Bill. "Aunt Virginia? Do you want to hold Robert?"

She blinked. "Robert?"

"The baby. Mum's just fed him and everything so people are passing him around."

She shook her head lethargically. "No, thank you."

Bill frowned, clearly unsure of what to do. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." Bill took his hand off his aunt's shoulder and went to play with his brothers and cousins. Squeals of laughter and praises floated from the kitchen where most were gathered around the little boy but only Berenice, Virginia, and I remained in the sitting room. There was silence in the room as we all sat together without any connections. Suddenly, Virginia said, "Robert looks so much like my little Ron."

*** ***

Hours later, all the guests had mostly gone home or to local pubs as Lily and I lingered for a few minutes, discussing affairs at the Ministry or childcare. Before we were about to leave, Lily asked, "Can I hold Robert one more time? I want to practice a bit before I have my baby."

"There's no proper science to holding a baby," Molly said, "just support the neck and you'll do fine." Giggling, Lily took the baby Robert in her arms and walked around the sitting room with him. 

"Hi, Robert. Hel-lo, Robert. How are you doing, Widdle Ickle Robert? You're a cute one, aren't you? Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Are you going to make little friends with my baby? Yes, you will. Yes, you will, you will!" Lily twirled around with the infant in her cradled arms, cooing at him. 

Virginia was still hiding in her corner on her hard backed chair. She had scarcely wiggled during the entire celebration and barely ate a thing. As Lily twirled past her, Virginia looked up and stared at Lily. For the longest time, she followed Lily's every step, scarcely blinking.

Gradually, she raised her head towards the ceiling until she was staring straight at it. Her eyes opened wide and she squeaked out, "Oh my God..." Suddenly, she snapped her head back to face the room and said in a voice unlike her own. It was strong, dark, and sinister. The type of the voice that clearly enjoys the suffering of others. Her face had even changed, glowing with renewed strength. She was full of life and excitement. Smiling slyly, she replied, "Yes, wonderful, isn't it? My ancestor built it. Built for me, the true heir! Look at it!" She snapped her head back up at the ceiling and her expression changed back to horrified and frightened, close to tears. This voice was small and girlish and very, very frightened. It also sounded weary and defeated. "No," she gasped, "I don't want to look. Don't make me look!" She snapped back to the room and her face shifted to the vicious face. She laughed a high, cold laugh and mocked, "Oh, don't you understand? You have no will power of your own! If I say look at it..." her head seemed to be dragged up by an unseen hand as she hissed, "then you look _up_." Again, she transformed into the frightened personality, which cried, "No! No! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!" Back and forth, back and forth. She changed from the innocent little girl named "Ginny" who was about to die to an evil man named "Tom", who seemed to be using her as bait for another man named "Harry". Through this bizarre one-woman show, we found that "Ginny" loved "Harry" but "Tom" wanted to kill "Harry" after finishing off "Ginny". "Tom" spent most of the conversation mocking "Ginny", telling her how she could have saved herself if she had been allowed to tell; "they" would have believed her. He went on to say how her family would curse her dead body and think her a monster forever and how her love will die because of her stupidity. When "Ginny" screamed that "Harry" will not come, "Tom" reminded her cruelly that "Harry" _will_ come but not because he genuinely cares about her but because he's friends with her brother. "Ginny" spent most of the conversation screaming, weeping, or begging forgiveness of "anyone who finds this" and of "Harry". 

During this whole spectacle, Lily stood frozen on the spot. For some reason, "Tom" always stared at Lily's position first before slinking around in the chair. The younger Weasley children, besides Bill who seemed to have a better understanding of the situation, thought she was in the middle of telling a story and kept clamoring for the beginning. Arthur ordered the boys to leave the room as he tried to rouse Virginia from her trance. He shook her, yelled at her, even slapped her but she paid no mind... or rather "Tom" and "Ginny" paid no mind. 

Finally, as "Ginny" wept and muttered "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry" and as "Tom" described how his strength was returning and could "feel himself escaping", she let out one, final sob before slumping over, unconscious. Arthur took a deep breath and sent Virginia upstairs with his wand. Finally, he muttered, "She's not well at all."

"What just happened?" Lily demanded.

"We don't know," Molly explained. "Apparently, she's been doing that a lot. The medi-wizards say it's stress and she just needs some time away... from everything. There's nothing anyone seems to be able to do for her."

"She needs time to heal from all this," Arthur added. "She needs to get her bearings back." He sighed and shook his head, looking very tired. "I'm sorry you had to see that. She'll get through this. I just know she will."

With definite unease, Lily handed Robert back to Molly as Arthur went upstairs to perhaps explain what happened to his sons. In silence, we got on the rented Couplet (tm) Broom and flew home.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: I can hear you screaming from here and I haven't even posted it yet. Yes, I _know_ that the Weasleys' sixth son is named Ron. He's one of the main characters. Robert is Ron for the time being. Later, he will change into Ron. You'll see, it'll all work out. The part with Ginny and Tom are very close to the last chapter in "A Very Secret Diary" by Arabella at sugarquill.net. It is one scary fic, it nearly gave me nightmares. A must-read for any Harry Potter fan. Anyway, that part's dialogue and description is based on her version which I believe is probably close to what happened so I used it. Go check out her fic! It's great! Before you leave to go check that fic and her other fics (she does an excellent Hermione-centered series called "Hermione, Queen of Witches" which I highly recommend. She writes with a Ron/Hermione bias, by the way, in case that's an issue with any of you. Read her fics!), review this one! Tell me what you thought! E-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com. Please, if you do a review, leave an e-mail so I can write back without hunting you down. See ya later!


	12. The Cruelest Month

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twelve: The Cruelest Month

The lion and lamb went and soon it was April. It rained constantly. A light drizzle covered the days and nights, casting the light grey and making the sky dark. My parents used to call such days "Azkaban Days" because they say that it is charmed to be frequently like that in the wizarding prison. I hope it's true. 

It was the sixteenth of April. For the past week or so, I had been feeling a little off-color. I tried to hide my general state of ill comfort but Lily and Sirius had begun commenting on how unhealthy I looked. I laughed it off but only because Lily had enough to worry about. So what? I scolded myself when thinking upon my general sick feeling, I've had spells of feeling this way and they came and went away without any reason why so there is no reason to head to a doctor now. I guess I tend to avoid medical attention at all costs because doctors remind me of my childhood spent in bed for days or even months on end. I wasn't about to spend my adult life that way. 

I was reflecting on the term "Azkaban Days" when someone knocked lightly on the wall of my cubicle. Surprised at the polite intrusion, I turned around in my swivel chair to face whoever was intending to speak to me. It was Arthur Weasley.

His face was ashen, as if he had just seen a ghost and he was trembling slightly. "Am I disturbing you?"

"Not really," I replied then asked, "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry for this but could you do me a favor? If you don't have the time, that's fine."

I was stunned at this request. I wasn't extremely good friends with Arthur, he was Lily's friend after all, so naturally I wondered why he was asking _me_ for favors. "I suppose I may have the time. What's the problem?"

He seemed to be at a loss for words. He quickly shook his head. "Not here. This has to be private. I'm sorry but you know that conversations can be overheard in here."

"Alright," I replied, confused out my mind as I got up. What did he want me to do that required this much secrecy? 

He led me out of the Office to a secluded hallway some distance away. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how to tell you this. I'm in shock myself." He took a deep but shaky breath and opened his eyes. His voice trembling, he said, "You know Virginia?"

"Yes, she was married to... your cousin." I didn't want to say Percy's name in case that would upset him further.

"She's... she's... dead. Dead."

My jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

"No," he replied in a would-be calm voice. "No, she's dead. Found her this morning."

"You found...?"

"Her literary agent. She called him last night..." he seemed to trying very hard not to get emotional as he continued, "said... she was done with her latest work. Wanted to... to conference with him... so she said."

"Was she murdered?"

He shook his head and put his hand to his mouth, looking as though he was going to sick. "No," he answered tremulously, "she... she... h-h-hanged herself."

I had to brace myself against the wall to prevent myself from falling down. "No way. There's no way she..."

He nodded. "She left a suicide note. She left a suicide note, a short story, and two poems on her desk, very neatly arranged. Oh, and her requests for... the arrangements..." Arther choked up. 

I could barely breathe. "Arthur," I demanded softly, "I still don't understand what you need me to do."

Arthur closed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths in order to compose himself. Once he was somewhat gathered together, he explained, "I have to bring... her widower in from Azkaban. I'm his closest living relative so this is my duty. I want someone to inform Molly... and the kids." He closed his eyes and muttered softly, "She just saw them three days ago. That's the last time any of us saw her alive. I can still see her kissing the boys on their foreheads good-bye. She knew it was the last time, she _knew_." He swallowed thickly. "Anyway, this is going to be very public. Virginia was famous and her death will be all of the world's papers. I want my family to know beforehand. Could you... do that for me, James?" I nodded. "Thank you. This means so much to me."

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," I responded. "She was a good person. I didn't know her all that well but I could figure that much."

Arthur smiled briefly and then said, "I have to go get my cousin now. Thank you again." 

"I'll go now... to tell your family," I added softly. Arthur nodded and walked away. With a gulp, I Apparated.

*** ***

The Burrow was a bustle of activity. The Weasley children were all playing with each other or, in Bill's case, studying. Bill was sitting on the faded couch as he read a used Mathematics textbook. Charlie and Percy were involved in a fast and furiously aggressive game of catch although the two seemed to be intent on just pelting each other with the rubber ball with pastel geometric shapes on it. Fred and George were building with blocks, obviously trying to see how high they could make of a row of blocks before it fell over. Robert was also on the faded couch with Bill, sitting in a bassinet, neutrally staring at all the activity. 

"Once upon a time," Bill said to Robert, who was staring at him for the moment, "there was a number four. Four was unhappy because it wanted to equal twenty. So it had a mysterious buddy named blank. So, one day, your big brother Bill had to figure out what blank's true identity was. Blank turned out to be... five..." Bill said as he wrote on a piece of paper with a quill. "Once upon another time, there was a number eight and it wanted to equal eighty. So, it got a buddy named blank, too." Robert made some sort of gurgling, whining noise at this. Bill answered, "Yeah, I see what you mean, Robert. Not many names in the math word. People like naming their kids blank. Maybe they're all on the witness protection program." Robert cooed in response. "Very good point. You should write to the math book people and correct them."

At this point, Percy crashed backwards into my legs with a yelp as the ball bounced off his forehead, the ball landing sharply in Robert's lap. Robert screeched at the ball and Bill batted it away. Robert let out one last tiny yelp of discomfort before returning to staring at the lanterns in the room. 

"Hi, Mr. Potter," Percy greeted with a giggle as he lay on the floor. 

"Do you want to play with us?" Charlie asked, retrieving the ball from the ground. 

I shook my head. "I need to speak with your mother. Is she here?"

Bill hollered, "MUM! MR. POTTER'S HERE TO SEE YOU!" Robert began to shriek. Molly ran into the room, saying, "Bill! Don't scream your lungs out like that! Scared the daylights out of Robert!" She picked up the screaming child and laid him over her shoulder, bouncing him as she asked me sweetly, "Sorry, James, I wasn't expecting guests."

"That's alright," I muttered. "Arthur sent me here."

"Well, out with it." 

I took a glance at the room. The Weasley children were all so young. I didn't know how young children could survive in light of the current conditions. I barely know how we adults survive. "Molly, I think the children should leave the room."

Charlie groaned in response. "Why do we always have to leave the room?"

"Bill, take your brothers upstairs and..." Molly began.

"Mum," Bill said sharply, "I'm nearly old enough to attend Hogwarts. I'm not a kid anymore! I want to hear this. Charlie can take everyone upstairs." 

"I'm not a kid neither!" Charlie protested. 

"The pair of you!" Molly interrupted harshly, "hush! Bill, you may stay. Charlie, I want no arguments. Take your brothers upstairs this instant."

"Bill gets to do everything…" Charlie whined but Molly gave him a glare and he fell silent. With a long-suffering sigh, she placed the dozing Robert in the bassinet and waving her wand, sent him upstairs as Charlie dragged the three younger boys behind him. 

Once the four boys had disappeared from the landing and seemed to be progressing upwards, Molly sat down on the couch beside Bill, who was now sitting straight up and set his book aside. She offered the nearby chair for me to sit in which I did as she said, "Well. The children are gone, what did Arthur send you here for?"

I didn't really know how to put it. I couldn't just say, "Hey, remember that aunt you had? Well, she hanged herself last night so she's dead! See you later!" Not exactly the most tactful thing I could say. "Um…" I muttered awkwardly.

"What'd Dad want?" Bill asked.

"I don't really… What I mean is… I don't know how to explain this…"

"Don't tell me Arthur's dead!" Molly cried.

"No," I answered, "not that."

"Is he being sent to Azkaban? Because if it is, it must have been that bloody…"

"No! Arthur's fine. That isn't what I'm here for." 

Molly sighed in relief. "Well, I can't think of anything worse at the moment. What could be the matter?"

"Um… Molly… Bill… do you know Virginia?"

"Uncle Percy's wife?" Bill asked. "Well, _of course _we do. She invited us over a few days ago."

"Why? What's wrong with Virginia?" Molly inquired. 

I could barely speak. Why didn't I just say to Arthur that I was busy? I didn't want to be the harbinger of doom. "I'm so sorry… but… she's dead."

"No," Molly answered, "she's not. She can't be dead." I nodded to show that yes, she can be dead. "But we just saw her just days ago." Bill seemed to have just gone into shock. 

"They found her this morning, Molly. She was already dead."

"But how? Why? Who?" She stammered, "Who would do such a thing?"

"She did it herself," I said sadly.

Bill replied, half-screaming, "She killed herself?!"

Molly took a breath. She apparently had forgotten that Bill was still there. "Oh, Bill, it's alright…"

"No, it's not!" Bill protested, now starting to cry, "Why did she do that?"

"I don't know, dear. Maybe she was unhappy, Bill… I really can't say." 

Bill hiccuped as he continued, "I can't… believe… it! She… killed… Ron! She just… killed him! He… didn't… didn't… even… get a chance!" 

"Ron?" I asked.

Molly put her arms around Bill as he cried. "I think he means that sequel she was working on. You know, little Ron Seannings. She was saying recently that she was planning a sequel. Continue the story and so forth."

I had never really thought about that. Virginia was an author, after all. Who knows how many stories were yet to be written? How many characters had yet to live out their lives on paper? These would never come to fruition. All these lives in her head were cut short. I guess the death of an author is equal to an imaginary massacre. 

Bill seemed to disagree with Molly's evaluation. He shook his head and said, "Not him! Not that Ron!"

"I have no idea what you could mean. The only other Ron I can think of is how she used to call Robert Ron. There is no other Ron, Bill." 

Bill pulled himself out of his mother's arms and explained tearfully, "It was supposed to be a surprise! She was waiting for the right moment and it never came. She told me… that night that Robert was born. It was our little secret."

"Bill, I have no idea what you are talking about," Molly answered softly. "What was the surprise? Her story? What was it, dear?"

Bill's chin trembled for a few moments that felt like hours. Finally, he wailed painfully and leapt into his mother's arms, stuttering, "She was… she was… going to… have a baby."

"Oh my God," I whispered. "Did anyone else know?"

"Just me… her… and I think her friend Jenna, I don't know. She said… she said… the other day… when we went over… that I was going to be allowed… allowed to tell… on the sixteenth… I didn't ask why! I should've asked why! But I didn't! And now she's dead!" He sobbed and hiccuped into his mother's chest. "She was going to name it Ron and everything!"

Molly pulled Bill in tightly and shushed him, rocking back and forth. "Oh, Bill, oh my child. I'm so sorry. This isn't your fault, Bill. Oh, my sweet dear, don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Shhh…"

Severely shaken by this new information, I rose weakly from my chair. "I better be going, Molly. I'm sorry about… everything."

"James," she said, not looking up, "Could you tell Arthur about what Bill said? It might be relevant to the Aurors, who knows."

"I'll do that. If I can. Good-bye, Molly. Good-bye, Bill." 

"Good-bye, James," Molly answered as Bill whimpered weakly. 

*** ***

"Can you tell me where Arthur Weasley is? It concerns Virginia Weatherby," I asked an employee in Arthur's office.

"He's with Frank Longbottom. Try the Auror's Hall," the young employee replied, startled at my interruption.

I sprinted to the Hall that I usually wished to avoid. I managed to grab an Auror who led me to an Experimental Charms laboratory. "She isn't in St. Mungo's because we have no idea if anyone went near her body before she was found or she merely added something to herself as revenge on a cruel, harsh world," the unknown Auror explained. When I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, he added, "Can't be too careful. Besides, we can't let a prisoner from Azkaban just walk around in a hospital. As soon as he sees the deceased, she'll be transferred and he'll go back to his cell."

"Are they really putting dementors in Azkaban?" I asked since the prison was brought up.

"That's none of your concern." He indicated a lab and nodded, growling, "In there. Have a nice day." With that, he swept off to return to whatever he was doing. Taking a breath, I opened the door and stepped inside.

The laboratory was not very large. There were no decorations on the walls but there were burn marks and pockmarks on the walls from past experiments. Frank Longbottom, looking stern, was to my left while Arthur Weasley and Percy Weatherby was to my right. Right in front of me was a single table with Virginia Weatherby's corpse on it.

It was strange seeing Virginia lying rigid on a cold metal table. She was laid out flat on her back, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling light. Her brown hair fanned out behind her broken neck, marked with a red rope burn. Her arms were at her sides and her engagement and wedding rings had been removed. Her dark blue velvet dress robes clung to her body and made her deathly-pale skin looked even more ghostly, as if she had already transformed into a spirit. Here lay a woman who had been so full of energy and life, who had pretended to be friends with Father Christmas, who had cherished little children, who had seen the good in even the worst situations, who had been so full of love for everyone. She was gone, her life snuffed out from despair. 

The cause of her despair was different since I had last seen him. Percy Weatherby was wearing thin, grey Azkaban prison robes. His wedding ring had also been removed along with his watch. He was a touch paler, slightly more thin than he usually was but that was to be expected. His eyes, however, showed no remorse, no pity, no grief. His expression was of boredom and distaste, like one who goes to the opera and then realizes that not only do the actors fail to perform well but the play is that one that was seen before. 

"James," Frank Longbottom asked, perplexed upon my entrance, "is there something you need?"

"Um… I just went to the Weasleys, and the oldest, Bill, told me something that I think you may need to know."

"Continue."

"Mrs. Weatherby was pregnant." 

There was dead silence, deader than the person in question. All the men stared at the stomach of the corpse. Finally, Percy remarked, "Ah. That makes a little more sense."

"A little more sense?" Arthur demanded, "Your wife is dead! She was carrying your child! And all you can say is 'that makes a little more sense'?!"

"I was wondering," Percy replied smoothly, "why she bothered at all. This is her revenge on me."

"Her revenge?" Frank questioned.

"Yes," he replied in a bored tone, "She realized why I was so insistent on having children. Seems I succeeded, after all. So, in retaliation, she killed herself which kills the child."

"Why did you want children?" Frank asked.

"It was part of my Master's plan. A superior race of pure-bloods. That was the only reason I married her." He frowned slightly at the corpse. "Pity. This would have been much more effective if I actually gave a damn about her. It's not like I actually loved her or…"

Percy didn't get to finish his statement because Arthur, enraged, slugged him on the mouth. Percy collapsed from the blow, spitting blood. In utter shock, he stared up at his older cousin, who was shaking from fury. 

"Arthur…" Frank said, trying to soothe the situation.

"You bastard… you damned bastard! How can you stand there and just say that? This woman is dead! Your child is dead! Have you no heart? Does nothing touch you anymore?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"She was part of my family! You two are part of my family!"

"What meaning does 'family' have, Arthur? That hare-brained ideal that your father, my uncle, always clung to? It doesn't exist, Arthur! It never has and it never will."

"Percy, you don't truly believe that, do you?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "My God! Arthur, how can you do so dense? What benefit can all those children bring you? The only one with any notion of ambition is Percy, your four-year-old, in case you're losing track..."

"Only because you placed it there!" Arthur growled, "I should have known. I thought you were trying uplift him, make him reach for higher goals as I did for you, but now I see he was just a pawn..."

"What did you ever do for me that I wouldn't have done for myself? I knew from the moment I was born that I would surpass my disgraceful heritage! You were just a convenient tool, that is all."

"I let you in my house, I took care of you when no one else could spare a minute, I let you near my _children_!" Arthur was shaking with anger, his eyes bulging as Percy continued to mock him from the floor, his lips still bleeding. 

"Now, now, Arthur, don't make yourself angry. What would your precious children think of their father screaming his lungs out?"

"Don't you talk to me about how to raise my children!"

"You act a lot like your father, you know. So protective of all of you..."

"Don't you dare speak of my father..."

"Why not? He was my uncle, after all. But all the love in the world couldn't save his children, could it?"

"He tried!"

"He tried and failed miserably!" Percy shouted back in scorn. "Pathetic man. Like father, like son. Even the family's the same. Hope to God you don't have a girl because Mabel was born first and we all know what happened to her, right?"

"Shut up! You have no right to bring her into this!"

"Of course, she didn't go until Sirius had her, along with every other boy over the age of thirteen. I wonder how much he paid. The standard or did he add a tip like a good Prince would?"

"Don't you drag that boy into this argument!"

Percy ignored him, sighing in nostalgia, "Yes, I was twelve. We were in that grand warehouse and there was that huge bang. Sirius was dripping in blood and brains as if he had bathed in it. He must have opened the door as she pulled the trigger..."

"You're disgusting! Bringing those two into this mess!"

Percy scoffed, "It make me sick when I think of how great our family was and how low we now wallow. You may be content down there but I will move up. I _have_ moved up. You think I can be stopped? You think my Master can be stopped? You foolish, naive man."

Arthur seemed to be struck dumb, slowly swinging his head from side to side. Finally, he looked down again of Percy, and muttered, "Who are you? _What_ are you?"

"A wiser man than you."

"No, Percy, I understand more than you think. The Weasley family fell because of corruption, you forgot that. Our great-grandfather no longer understood right and wrong. You may think I have no ambition, that my father had no ambition, but that is far from the truth. My father never made it very far but he got far enough to get _me_ this far and I will never get much farther from here but my children, I swear it now and forever, will surpass me. That is how we will return to former glory, Percy. Through slow, steady hard work and determination, not by selling my soul to a heartless man."

Percy laughed hard, throwing his head back behind him. "Would you die for your children, Arthur? Would you be so brave with an interrogator?" Percy slowly stopped laughing and flicked his eyes towards me and smiled. The dried blood on his lips made him almost demonic. But, then again, maybe that was because he already was. "Speaking of fathers defending their children," he drawled calmly, "How are you, James Potter? Still mourning?"

"I'm getting by," I said through clenched teeth. The air was beginning to stifle me. 

"Oh," he groaned with mock sympathy, "poor thing. I heard that you and your father hadn't spoken for six years before he died. Tomorrow never comes, does it? Ah, well. My father died when I was very young, I don't even remember him. I hear that in cases of murders, discovering the culprit usually helps with the healing process." He paused to allow me to answer but I didn't want to encourage him. He went on, "Wouldn't you like that little mystery solved? Because I know who did it, who laid that final blow. Aren't you the tiniest bit curious?"

"I know who. A Death Eater."

"Well, obviously. But which one? Oh, I'll be generous, I'll tell you. Me. I did it. Oh, he was very brave. We asked him to convince you to join us but he wouldn't hear of it. His final words were very poetic, almost Shakespearean. He was truly proud of you. He was behind your every move. He loved you deeply. His defense was so touching. It nearly brought a tear to my eye." As he said, he pantomimed brushing away a tear off his cheek. "When he proved useless to us, I decided that you two should be reunited at last," he said full of mock caring. He then began to laugh. 

A wave of emotions filled me instantly. Anger at Percy, sadness over my father's murder, and joy that even in jaws of death he still clung to his morals when most would have faltered. I never before realized that my boring, ordinary father had possessed such hidden inner strength. Tears stung my eyes. Why did it take his death for me to realize who my father really was?

"James, you may go. Thank you for informing us," Frank Longbottom ordered me over Percy's squeals of glee. 

Before turning to go, I took a long, last look at Percy Weatherby, burning him in my memory. I can still see him, sitting on the floor, his lips crusted in his blood (but who knows whose blood lingered on his hands?), his horn-trimmed glasses reflecting the overhead light, his red hair slightly overgrown and swaying as he laughed, his Azkaban prison robes hanging flatly on his thin frame. Every detail I memorized, every detail I detest. This man killed my father. He laughed at my grief. A woman, a gracious, glorious woman, lay dead on the table beside him along with their dead child and he did not even show pity. 

"I hope you rot," I hissed. 

Percy stopped laughing and smiled at me. "My Master will come for me. I will be rewarded." He smiled more broadly and added, "Stay well, Potter, _stay well_." He began to laugh again as I spun on my heel out the door. 

I went back to work but I didn't really get much done. My dizziness grew worse and I just kept seeing images of Virginia as a schoolgirl, Virginia during interviews, Virginia at the last Christmas party, and then seeing her stiff body. 

*** ***

How I managed to Apparate home without Splinching myself, I have no idea. By the time I returned home, I couldn't even see straight. I was so dizzy that I felt like I was falling over backwards. My eyes kept slipping in and out of focus and if I looked too long on an object or concentrated too hard, I saw double, triple, or sometimes quadruple. I felt weak and shaky and my skin had bursts of chill and shocks of heat interchangeably. I could barely breathe; it was a labored chore. Most of all, I wanted to throw up. 

When I Apparated into my sitting room, nearly on top of a table which I stumbled into, the nausea was more pronounced. Sirius was in the room and greeted me with a cheery, "Welcome back." Once he turned around to face me, his face dropped. "James, are you alright?"

Dots floated across my vision and the scene before me started turning white. "I'm going to faint."

"James?" Sirius ran around and held my arms in order to drag me to the couch but I pushed him away, screaming, "No! Go away! Leave me alone!"

Finally, my body reached a decision and I knew I was going to vomit. With a final push, I darted clumsily up the stairs, flung open the door, and reached the toilet not a moment too soon as I gagged and immediately heaved.

I heard Sirius pounding up the stairs. In between my spews, I pointed my wand at the door and shut it. "Get out!" I choked out before my voice was lost again. "Go away!" 

"James? Are you okay?" Sirius' voice frantically demanded.

"Leave me alone!"

For ten solid minutes, I regurgitated. After I was done, I must have passed out for a few moments because I lost time between my vomiting and my lying on the tile floor. I only felt slightly better after all my retching. I was having another cold spell and I shivered weakly. 

"James?" Lily's voice requested sweetly. "Are you in there?" I didn't have the voice to respond. "I'm coming in, James. Okay?" She paused for my refusal. Even if I had had one for her, I couldn't have made it. The door slowly opened and Lily stuck her head around to find me. Once she discovered me lying on the floor, she opened the door fully to let herself in. She sighed at the toilet as if it was being naughty and flushed it. She kneeled beside me. "James? Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I barely whispered. "I'm cold."

Lily nodded. "Is there anything you want?"

"Mouthwash." Lily stood awkwardly and went to the medicine cabinet. She filled the little cup with the green liquid, placed that on the counter, and bent down to lift me up. My knees buckled and my head swam. 

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Have to get the taste out," I gasped. Biting her lip, Lily lifted the cup to my mouth and the mouthwash slipped in. It took me great energy to shake my head to swish it around but I managed it. Once I felt I had enough, I spat it out into the sink. Lily ran the water and filled up a cup for me to rinse my mouth, which I did. 

Once that was done, she dragged me to the hallway closet to gather a warm blanket. She draped it over my shoulders and asked, "Would you like to lie down in the bedroom or downstairs on the couch?"

"Couch is fine." I buried my head in her shoulder. "Stay with me."

"Of course."

We stumbled downstairs and Lily made a detour to the kitchen to find a large mixing bowl in case I threw up again. Retrieving that, she laid me down on the couch and made to sit in the chair.

"Can I lay in your lap?" I asked weakly. 

Lily nodded. She gently lifted my upper body so she could sit down as I laid my head in her lap. She removed my glasses and set them on the table. Sighing, she began stroking my hair. It was very quiet. Only the clock ticked and the fire crackled. The little baby squirmed and kicked. 

"It's kicking," I muttered.

"I know."

"You show more when you sit down."

"Mm-hm."

My mind strayed to Virginia again. This should have been her life. Percy should have been delighted. Percy should fawned over her. Percy should have loved her. 

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"Of course. I love you, too."

"And I love our baby."

"I always tell myself that I carry around a little piece of you everywhere with me."

"But it's you, too."

"I know but I already carry around myself."

I reflected on that. Did Virginia think along the same lines? That she was carrying around a little Percy everywhere? "Do you like carrying me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does it make you happy?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Virginia's dead," I replied bluntly. Lily's hand stopped stroking. 

"Oh," she answered sorrowfully. "How? When?"

"She hanged herself. They found her this morning." Tears ran down my face. "She was pregnant."

"Oh," Lily moaned softly, wiping away my tears. "That's awful."

"I had to tell the little Weasleys when Arthur had to go collect... her widower. They're so young and innocent, Lily. I never realized how awful this all was until I had to tell them something like that. Bill's the oldest and he's only ten. Ten, Lily. He was the one who told us about Virginia's pregnancy." I was too weak to properly cry, instead the tears flowed down like rivers. "He just kept crying and wailing. And then Percy, Percy Weatherby that is, didn't even care. He looked _bored_ by all this. He never even loved her. How can someone do that? How can someone be that cold?"

Lily shushed me and wiped my face. "It's alright. It's over. I'm here."

"That could have been you, Lily. Lying cold and dead with a dead baby inside you. She's just _dead_. That's it. The happy, perky author friend of Little Finger is a lump of cold flesh." I choked up, not from vomit but from tears. "She's never going to read that story ever again, Lily. Father Christmas' sleigh bells will never ring at her command ever again. That party was the last time anyone heard her read that story. All those little children. All those little Weasleys." Lily shushed me again but I broke out into a weak sob, "He killed my father!"

"Who?"

"That damned bastard Percy Weatherby! He killed my father... and he _laughed_! He mocked me and he mocked him as his dead wife lay on the table in the very same room! He told me... told me... how my father loved me. He loved me! He loved me!"

"It's alright, James. It's alright."

"My father loved me!" I scarcely speak through all my sobs. "My father loved me! He was proud of me! We hadn't spoken in years and he still loved me even when they threatened death! He loved me! He loved me!"

Lily started to cry as well. "Yes, James. He did. He loved you. He always did."

"I never got a chance to make peace with him! He was so brave! Why didn't I come back to him? I didn't know! I didn't know! I never got to tell him! I love him, too! I'm so sorry! I want to say I'm sorry but I can't!"

"Shh... James, it's alright. He knows you love him. He knows you're sorry. He's watching over you now. He still loves you. He knows and he understands." I had run out of tears so I shakily breathed. "James, it's alright now."

I shook my head. "No, it's not."

"Shh... for now, this moment, everything is fine. We can save our troubles for another moment. But not now."

"Lily?" I asked weakly, "Promise me that if something happens, you won't do what Virginia did. It's not worth it. You'll hurt so many people."

"I won't, James."

"Promise me. Swear to me. I want you and the baby to live even if I'm not there. Swear it, please."

"I solemnly swear that I will continue to live if anything should happen to you."

At this point, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I was still chilly but I knew that I would warm up soon enough. "Lily," I mumbled, "I'm going to sleep for awhile. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

If Lily responded, I didn't hear it because I remember nothing else.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Yes, I'm quite evil. I didn't originally plan for Percy and Virginia to be important characters, much less a major Death Eater and a suicide victim respectively. The name "Weatherby" is from the books, Mr. Crouch calls Percy that by mistake. I remembered that he called for "Weatherby" when he was talking to the trees about his wife and son, who are either dead (wife) or not supposed to be talked about (son). So, I I wondered if there had been a Percy Weatherby there working under him at the time when his son was not in prison and his wife was still alive. Of course, I had to wonder where he went so he mutated into the Death Eater you see in the story. "Lenore", obviously, is the dead lover in Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven". The interactions with "Robert" are based on interactions between my brother's and my experiences with my nephew (to whom this fic is dedicated to). Molly's scene was really easy to write, I must say. This situation is totally in her element. The chapter title is based on the phrase "April is the cruelest month" said by T.S. Elliot. In case you didn't figure it out, this chapter is set in April (I only say it at least three times) and I'm... pretty cruel, I guess. I can't type because I sliced my middle finger on my left hand so this took me twice as long because I couldn't type some letters in and then I would have to go back and correct it. So, that's my end of the bargain. Come on! Review! Flame! Something! E-mail questions at destinyplot@lycos.com and please try to leave an e-mail in your review so I can write you back and I always write back. Trust me. See ya later!


	13. Looking Glass

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Thirteen: Looking Glass

"Now, children, stay together as we go through the factory," the tour guide said sweetly as she led the large group of young pureblood children. "There is a lot of dangerous magic at work and we don't want anyone hurt."

The group of six-year-olds shuffled behind her, looking at the large machines churning and whirring. I smiled as we were led through the pathway between the large grunting machines. 

"Don't crane your neck too far," Lucius mocked, "might fall right off." The nearby children chortled with delight. Their favorite pastime was tormenting me. Even though my general health had improved, I still missed large lumps of days with the group tutor. On such days, my parents had to pay extra for a private session. The purebloods thought this was an excellent reason to tease me and exclude me. They knew I was weaker from my bouts of ill health and the parents constantly spoke about me being "delicate", which usually made the children squeal with glee. Especially since I couldn't really fight back.

But today was different. I wasn't sick today and I wasn't sick yesterday, I thought. Today was a fun day. Today, the tutor had brought us to a clothing factory and we were going to see how our robes are made. I though that was the neatest thing ever. 

"Do you think they'll let us make something?" I asked excitedly.

"Well," Narcissa drawled, "if you make something, I'm not touching it. It'll probably be all gross with your fleas!" At this, she and the surrounding children promptly covered their mouths and noses and held their breaths. 

"I don't have fleas!" I protested. 

"I've got the jabs," Narcissa sang loudly, using her thumb to poke herself on the forearm. The other children began doing this as well. 

"Children! Please keep up the rest of the group!" The tour guide called, warbling like a songbird. The children giggled and ran to catch up the chattering children ahead. "No running please!"

I sighed sadly as I clung to the back of the mob. I want a friend, I thought. I smiled sadly up the machines. But today is a happy day, I reminded myself, so I'll be happy because this is fun. 

To my right was a little staircase with a hand rail leading up to a little metal door in the wall. What's in there? I asked myself. I shuffled over to the staircase as the group turned a corner, walking out of sight. The door was labeled with big red letters. But the words were way too big! I read aloud: "Re... strict... ed Area. Au... thor... Author... ized... Person... nel Only. What do these words mean?" I looked around for an adult to translate the big adult words into easier, smaller words that I could understand. There was no one in sight. "Well, someone gotta be in this room. I'll ask them." A much older voice in my head remarked, "Ah, this is where I first saw an Invisibility Cloak!" I paused. "Huh?" The voice didn't return so I shrugged and opened the door.

There were threads everywhere. They were hanging off the ceiling, popping out of the walls, weaving and binding together, moving across the room like fishing lines. There were so many colours: reds, blues, greens, blacks, yellows, and some colours that didn't even exist! Giggling, I watched mystified as the threads zoomed past my face. One splendid gold one caught my attention. I reached out to grab it when a voice remarked cheerfully, "That's one of my favorites too!"

I turned towards the source of the voice and discovered a work table that I had not noticed before. All the threads met at this table and were winding on wooden spools on the farthest side from me. Sitting at the table were three figures. The one closest was a young boy, not older than me, with bright, pale blue eyes and black hair. Next to him was an older man, about thirty years old, with brown hair and grey eyes. Next to him was a hooded figure. His face was completely hidden and his right hand was made of silver. 

"Who're you?" I asked, coming over and managing not to trip over the threads zooming around my feet.

"We're the Fates! We work here, don't we, Present?"

The man with the brown hair nodded. "That's right, Past."

"Is he," I asked, pointing at the hooded man, "Future?"

"Yup," Past said with a smile, "but don't bother asking him questions. Doesn't say a word." 

"What are you doing?" I inquired. 

"Well, I'm making sure that the threads come in on time," Past explained, arranging the aforementioned threads as he spoke, "Present keeps them straight, and Future cuts the thread when there's enough on the spool and throws them in the boxes." Past pointed behind him where a large rolling conveyor belt had boxes on it. The belt led up a large box-shaped hole in the wall labeled, "Deliveries". 

"Where do the threads go?"

Past frowned in thought, then asked Present, "Where _do_ all the threads go?"

"I don't know," Present replied. The two looked at Future who slowly looked up. With his silver hand, he pointed at the hole in the wall. 

"We know that!" Past exclaimed. "After that!"

Future scoffed and turned his attention back to the threads spinning past him. 

"Apologize," Present ordered softly.

"He never says anything! Why can't he just answer?" Past asked bitterly. "He's always screwing up and stuff too! Keeps cutting the threads before the spools are done."

"That's because you're so distracting, Past," Present scolded, "if you made less noise, you wouldn't startle him so."

I watched the threads spin on their little spools and the trio gently run their hands over the threads, keeping them straight. Soon enough, Future grabbed a large pair of clippers in his normal hand and his head moved left and right as if he was trying to read something on the threads. 

He opened the clippers near the golden one I liked. I gasped. "Don't worry," Past said, calmly, "He does that all the time. He won't cut it." And he was right because Future merely nipped it slightly in a number of places as it passed. "Told ya." Suddenly, two of the threads had fibers jump off the main thread and twirl together, making a brand-new thread. "Oh, that one is nice! I like this one, it's my new favorite!" 

The new thread sped towards its little spool as Past praised it. I noticed that the gold thread I had noticed before was near a red thread. Fibers from these threads had presumably jumped off earlier because a red-gold thread spun nearby. "I like this one," I told Past, pointing to the red-gold thread. 

"I like that one too. But I like this one," Past said, pointing to the new thread, which was blue and yellow, "better. But that's just as nice."

Future took up his clippers again and intently watched the threads again. He drew his tool towards the blue-yellow thread and cleanly snipped it. Future ripped the spool off its stand and threw it behind him into a box, which magically rolled down the belt. Another empty spool rose up from a hidden location and a thread sped towards it. Past groaned. "He cut it! I liked that one! It wasn't even ready yet!"

"Now, now, Past," Present said soothingly, "there's little we can do. Future decides when a spool is ready or not."

"It wasn't ready at all!" 

"Just hush."

Past frowned deeply but soon recovered. "I still got my other favorites. And their threads are long. Mess up the system if he snipped them, wouldn't it?"

"Just don't startle him," Present warned.

"I don't startle him! He just screws up on his own!"

Future turned his head sharply towards Past and grunted harshly. 

"Apologize," Present sighed.

"So-rry," Past sang in a voice that clearly said he wasn't. 

Future took up his clippers again and snipped a few other threads but apparently Past had no attachment to these ones since he barely noticed as Future flung them behind him. Later on, Future's clippers went towards the gold thread but I was not afraid; he hadn't clipped it the last time. He drew close and the blades hovered over the gold thread zooming past. Finally, he closed the jaws and the thread was in two. 

Past screamed in horror. Future moved towards the red thread and snipped that one as well. Past screamed louder, crying for him to stop. He went towards the red-gold thread and closed the clippers but the thread didn't break. Future gave a grunt and tried again. Still, the thread continued to plod along. Again and again, Future frantically snipped at the thread but it was like iron and refused to be cut. He thrust out his silver hand to grab hold in order to stop the thread from moving but it just sped faster through his fingers as he tried in vain to cut it. 

But Past just kept crying over his threads. "You cut two of my favorites! You always cut the ones I like! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

*** ***

It was a beautiful summer night. The wind blew softly and the full moon glowed benignly in the star-scattered sky. There was a lovely little house. The sides were white and shone under the moon's rays. The little clear window had a little window box with summer flowers blooming. The Dutch door was painted a light blue with tiny flowers stenciled into the finish. The top door was open and the light shone from inside. The WWN was on and its soft melodies floated outside. 

A young brown-haired woman sat on the stoop outside the Dutch door, watching her little toddler, running about the picket gate-enclosed yard, catching fireflies and letting them go. The fireflies floated about the couple's heads and winked in and out of visible sight, looking like stars hanging low above the earth. The little boy squealed with delight.

"I wanna glow too!" the boy remarked, half-shouting as if she was not three feet away.

"Oh, you do, Remus," the woman replied. "Do you want to visit your auntie tomorrow?"

"Yeah! I wanna go!"

"Auntie wants a picnic. What should we bring, Remus?"

"Fireflies!"

The woman laughed. "Remus, dear, we can't eat fireflies. Besides, we would go during the daytime. They won't be out anymore."

"I could catch 'em," Remus replied, "Like little fishies!"

"We still can't eat them, dear."

"Why not?"

"It's not good for you," the woman answered, putting her chin in her hand. 

"We can't eat forks," Remus responded after a second or so of thought.

"No, we can't."

"But we bring forks, don't we?"

"Not to eat, dear!" The woman chuckled. "Oh, you have some ideas."

"Can I have a firefly as a pet?"

"No, dear, you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't live very long."

Remus looked crestfallen. "Why not?"

"I don't know, dear."

"Where do they go in the daytime?"

"Back home, I guess."

"Where is their houses?"

"I don't know, dear. Since we can't bring fireflies, is there anything else you want?"

"A pony."

"We can't eat a pony!"

"I don't wanna eat one, I just want one!"

"I meant what do you want to eat?"

"Um... cake."

"What sort of cake?"

"Christmas cake!"

"Remus," the woman replied with a happy sigh, "it's not Christmas yet. How about a nice store-bought cake with yummy frosting?"

"Yay! Cake!" Remus cheered and went back to catching fireflies in his hand.

I smiled at the sight. I went over to the woman and said, "Your kid is cute." She didn't answer me, just smiled at her son. "Is his name Remus?" No reply. "Can you hear me?" I waved my hand in front of her hand but she seemed not to notice. Perplexed, I tried to tap her on the arm but my hand went clean through. "Am I a ghost?"

"Marcia!" a man's voice called from inside.

"What, Billie?" she called back, sounding a touch annoyed at having her time with her son interrupted.

"Your mother is on the fire! She wants to talk to you!"

She rolled her eyes but said sweetly, "Remus!"

"Yeah?"

"Mummy has to go talk to Gran! Just stay there!" She got up to enter the house but paused and turned around to face her son again, shaking a finger, "And no going outside the gate. Stay here. Mummy will be back."

" 'Kay!" Remus replied but clearly wasn't really listening.

She sighed and let herself in. I could hear her begin her conversation with her mother as someone, presumably Billie, started to arrange dishes in the kitchen. Remus continued to play among the fireflies but the fireflies seemed to be bored with his yard. Slowly, the majority of the flies started to drift outside the enclosed area. 

As all toddlers do, he ignored his mother's advice and opened the gate to follow them outside the area. Remus giggled as he continued to catch and release the bugs as they flew farther and farther away from his house. He was at the edge of a large wood and more fireflies were gathered near the trees. 

"Remus!" I called, walking up to him, "it's dangerous here!"

Remus ignored me and continued to twirl around under the dancing lights, perfectly content. However, I noticed that something, a _big_ something, was moving within the trees. It moved slowly, hunting out its prey almost silently. Only the tiny snap of twigs and heavy panting gave it away. Remus didn't seem to notice the odd noises coming towards him; he continued to laugh and prance around. I tried in vain to catch Remus' attention but he couldn't hear me; no one could. 

The thing in the wood inched forward and I could finally make out its shape. The moonlight filtered through the trees and glittered on silver fur. The legs were muscular and looked extremely powerful with long, sharp claws. It looked like a wolf except it was much larger and its snout was shorter. It bared its teeth and I gasped. They were long and pointed, covered with slime dripping on to the ground. Its yellow eyes glowed in the half-light like two immensely gigantic fireflies. "Werewolf," I whispered in terror. 

It growled softly and finally, Remus stopped. The werewolf inched forward and panted heavily. Remus turned around and looked into its burning eyes. The werewolf poised itself for a lunge. Remus blinked in surprise. "Run away!" I screamed but of course, Remus didn't hear me.

Remus carefully put his hand out in front of him, in order to pet the creature. The werewolf growled, baring its numerous teeth. "Woof-woof?" Remus asked simply.

With a terrifying, strangely feline shriek, it flew into the air and opened its impressive jaws and went straight for Remus' little throat.

*** ***

A small boy with black hair and pale blue eyes lay on his stomach in a large sitting room. It was richly furnished with high-quality couches and chairs. The mantle had pictures in gold frames: a couple in wedding fare, two sisters sitting hand-in-hand, a young teenager reading a book intently, a mother holding an infant child in her arms, a father holding the same child, and a young child smiling and waving at the viewer. Certificates of accomplishment hung on the walls, one labeled "Head Girl" among others, beside great works of artwork. In the room, there were items of precious value: vases, statuettes, and stonework. There was a long mirror over the fireplace and the mantle. A cheery fire roared in the fireplace, warming the little boy's stocking feet. A glass door led an indoor glass patio, which contained lounging chairs made of bamboo and cloth. An empty space with no door showed a fine dining room.

The little boy, who appeared to be around four or five years old, was working on an elementary puzzle. I walked over to sit on the couch to watch him. The puzzle looked like it was supposed to be a picture of cats playing with a ball of string but he was only half completed. "Hi," I greeted. He ignored me. "Great. I'm invisible again," I muttered. 

Suddenly, there was the great bang of a door slamming. It sounded like it bounced off its jam and slammed again into a wall. Heavy pounding was coming down hidden stairs. Even heavier pounding followed it closely.

"Don't you dare walk out on me, Janet!" An angry man's voice shouted.

"You have no right to tell me what I can and can not do, Roger!" A furious woman's voice replied. Finally, a pretty, tall woman in her early twenties with brown hair and pale blue eyes like the little boy swept into the entrance between the sitting room and the dining room. Her hair was done in a bun that coming undone and she was dressed in dark purple robes with silver flowers embroidered on it. Breathing heavily, she stormed into the dining room and out of sight. Immediately after came a handsome, tall man also in his early twenties with black hair and pale grey eyes. His hair was cut very short and he was wearing a dark brown robe. "Janet!" he hollered. "Where the hell are you, Janet?!"

Janet stormed back in carrying clothes in her arms. "What?!"

"What are those for?" Roger demanded.

"For wearing, you dumb idiot!" Janet screamed back even though they were practically nose to nose.

"Wearing them where, pray tell?!"

"Not here, that's where!" With that, she flew back upstairs. Roger ran after her. I could hear sounds of closets, cabinets, and shelves of dressers being thrown open or falling on to the floor. 

"What are you doing with those?!" Roger demanded from upstairs. Janet didn't answer. Soon, she ran back downstairs. She had hard suitcases in her hand, which she threw on the floor. She flew into the dining room and out of sight again. Roger seemed to have cut her off because he hollered from a direction that sounded like he was on the lower floor again, "What are you doing?!"

"Leaving you, that's what I'm doing! I'm sick and tired of you and your moods! I don't need it and neither does Sirius!"

"You can't take Sirius away from me!"

"I can and I will!" Janet had reappeared into our view of sight now armed with a purse. Sirius was ignoring them, working intently on his puzzle, humming loudly although not as loud as his parents. Roger appeared soon after, practically running into her. 

"He's my son! You can't just take him away from me!" Roger pleaded.

"He's my son too, Roger! And, if my memory serves, _I_ was the one that actually gave birth to him, not _you_! He's more my son than yours!"

"You can't take him! I'll go mad! He's the thing that keeps me going!"

Janet laughed harshly. "You'll go mad?! Hell, you're already there! Whether or not Sirius is with you is hardly going to make a difference!"

"Please, I love him..." Roger begged.

"Oh, good for you!" Janet screamed sarcastically, "If you really love him, then don't throw him around!"

"He was having fun!"

"He nearly cracked his head open because of your strength! You're uncontrollable! You'll end up killing him! Keeping him away from you is the best thing I can do for him!"

"I love him... I can't control myself... please... understand..." Roger was beginning to cry. 

"I'm _sick_ of understanding! I'm _sick_ of having to make Sirius feel better because you're having a 'bad' mood and you scream in his face! Sirius shouldn't have to put up with that! I don't have to put up with that! I'm leaving!" 

"Don't take him away, Janet, I don't mean to hurt him... I don't want to hurt you... please, stay... we'll talk..."

"No! No more talking! Roger, let's just face it! You're a psychopath! People like you go to insane asylums and weave baskets all day!"

"Oh, look who's talking! I'm not the one with the retarded sister!"

Janet turned a violent purple colour and swept over to a vase. "How dare you!" She threw the vase at her husband, which he narrowly missed. "How dare you insult my sister!" She threw another vase at him and he barely ducked. "She was kidnapped and tortured! She was a beautiful, highly advanced baby and he ruined her!" She threw another vase at him, which he again avoided. "You're just a regular, run-of-the-mill psychotic! You need a lobotomy! A lobotomy, you hear me?!" With a cry of rage, she chucked a piece of stonework at him to which he ducked. 

Roger appeared to be crying again. "Janet! I didn't mean that! I couldn't control myself! It just flew out! Please, just don't leave! I need you! I need Sirius!"

"I don't care! I'm leaving and that's it! You need serious help and I'm sick of cleaning your messes! Good-bye, Roger!" Just before she grabbed the suitcases, Sirius looked up and interrupted cheerfully, "Look! Mummy, Daddy, I did the kitty part of the puzzle!"

It was as if they had both been hit by an invisible force. They looked at their son like they didn't know who he was. Janet looked at Roger the same instant he looked at her. Finally, turning back to her child, she said very softly and sweetly, "That's good. Did you do it all today?"

"Yuh-huh!"

"You're so clever. You're my little clever boy, aren't you, Sirius? You're my little star, my little shining star."

"You're like your mummy," Roger replied, almost out of breath as if he had run a great distance. "Your mummy was very smart. Your mummy was Head Girl."

"Are you going to leave Daddy, Mummy?" Sirius asked. Janet's legs could no longer support her and she fell to her knees. She crept towards her son and replied with a big fake smile, "No, I'm not going to leave."

"But you said you were."

"I was just very upset. I didn't mean it."

"Like Daddy sometimes?"

"Yeah, like Daddy says things he doesn't really mean. Sometimes, grown-ups do things they don't mean."

"Oh," Sirius replied. "Because leaving Daddy would make me sad. I love Daddy. I love Mummy too. I want to stay together forever and ever."

"That's right," Roger said, coming over to crouch near Sirius. "We will stay together. Because you're here and you come from our love."

"We'll stay together because you were born to us. You're very important to us," Janet added, tears coming to her eyes.

"And I'm going to make it better. We're all going to make this better. I'm going to get some help. Mummy and I will get someone to help us. We'll fix this. It's going to okay from now on. Just be happy, okay? If you're happy, then everything will turn out better than before."

"I'll be happy," Sirius answered. 

Janet hugged him, breathing heavily to fight back her tears. "Yes, you will. You're our little star, our good little boy. You'll save us, you'll be the key, little star."

*** ***

I was in a store that sold hats. But I needed socks! There were no socks, I needed socks, damn it! Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I whirled around. It was Remus and he was wearing an... owl on his head?

"Remus!"

"Do you like my hat?" Remus asked cheerfully.

"There's a snowy owl on your head."

"It's a Hedwig Hat! Isn't it the most groovy thing you've ever seen?"

"It looks like the owl is engulfing your head."

"I love my Hedwig Hat! You should buy one!"

"But I need socks!"

"No, you have to buy a Hedwig Hat!"

"But I need _socks_, man! _Socks_!"

"Wear my Hedwig Hat!"

Remus took off the Hedwig Hat and started placing it on my head but I screamed, "No! I need socks! No hats! No hats!"

*** ***

I'm not lonely. I simply chose to sit in the Malfoy Manor Library, reading an old book that has begun to decay. I'm not being left out or ignored or anything. I like the quiet. Really, I do. Well, not just quiet. There're certain types of quiet I don't like. But self-imposed quiet is best. Self-imposed quiet in the grand room on the carpet with a book that has pages falling out. That's alright. I don't need friends because I got a book that no one remembers reading or even buying. The pages fall out as I turn the pages, like dead leaves from a tree. That's what I kept telling myself. 

A shadow fell across the page and I could hear someone breathing above my head. I turned my face up and adjusted my glasses on my nose. 

"James, still here?" Lucius asked with a big grin.

"Yeah, I was just reading and..."

"Bet you're bored. That book's ancient."

"But it's really inter..."

"Books are _boring_," Lucius interrupted, rolling his eyes, "I only read when I _have_ to. Anyway, since you're not doing anything interesting, I came to ask if you wanted to do something really, really fun."

"Lucius," I answered softly, "the last time you made that offer, I got hurt and I had to get my bones mended. I'd rather read."

"Oh, you're no _fun_, James. I made this effort to run down here so you could have a bit of fun and now you won't! I could've just left you here, you know. By yourself. With a stupid book."

"But your games aren't fun for me. I get hurt."

"You won't this time. This is really fun. The rest of us have been doing this for over an hour now." I didn't say anything. Lucius rolled his eyes. "Why do I even _try_? Fine, be that way. Stay bored, I'm leaving." He crossed his arms and began to shuffle out. I frowned. I wanted to play with _someone_. I was tired of reading and I didn't want to go listen to the adults prattle on about nonsense. 

"Okay," I said slowly. "But it better be fun."

"Great!" Lucius said without turning around. I got up and followed him out. We went to the kitchen with its four ovens embedded in the walls. The entire child population of purebloods had gathered around one vacant oven. Upon seeing my arrival, they clapped and cheered. 

"See? They want you to play," Lucius responded smugly. I weakly smiled. Maybe this _was_ going to be fun.

"What's the game?" I asked.

"Oh, it's not really a game... it's more like a toy... like a slide or something."

"Oh. What's the toy?"

Lucius walked forward and patted the oven that the children were clustered around. "This."

"That's an _oven_," I answered, feeling angry. "Not a _toy_."

"If I say it's a toy, then it's a toy, James!"

"You cook things in ovens. It's too heavy, how could we play anything with it?"

"Can you lift a slide?"

"Well, no..."

"Then a slide is not a toy?"

"No, but..."

"Then the oven is a toy."

"But you cook stuff in ovens!"

"_So_? It's still a _toy_."

"How can we play with an oven?" I demanded, crossing my arms. This was looking suspicious. 

"Simple," Lucius drawled, happy that he had won the argument. "Get in."

"Get _in_? The oven?"

"Yeah, in the oven, didn't you hear me?"

"It'll be hot!"

"It's not on, stupid!" Narcissa snapped. "This is not hard or anything."

"Food goes in ovens!" I exclaimed. 

"Just get in and you'll see. It's fun!" Jeremiah Parkinson answered. 

All the children clamored for me to step inside the oven. But I shook my head.

Lucius rolled his eyes again. "You're such a _baby_, James. Little delicate baby James is scared of an oven!"

At this, the children mocked me and waggled their outstretched tongues at me. "I'm not scared! This is just dumb!" I hollered. 

"Scared little baby!" Lucius cat-called. 

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Prove it, you _baby_! Get in!" With a grunt, he flung the door open and stepped aside. With my head held high, I stepped forward and crawled into the oven. I turned around so my face could be seen in the opening. I stuck my tongue out at them. Before I knew what was happening, Lucius slammed the door in my face. 

I jumped but luckily I made no noise. It was very dark inside the oven and the air was stuffy. It smelled like charcoal and burnt wood and ashes. Soot quickly covered my hands. "Ew..." I said upon inspection. "I got dust on me."

"You're worried about _dust_?" Lucius' voice replied, astonished. 

"It's dirty in here," I answered harshly. "Can I come out now? This is really boring." There was a sharp click and muffled giggles. "I heard something."

"What? Grindelwald's ghost in there?" Narcissa asked, laughing. 

"No," I sneered slowly. "I'm coming out." I pushed against the door but it wouldn't budge. I pushed harder but the door stayed firmly in its spot. "Lucius, help me open the door, please."

"Can't. It's locked," Lucius' voice answered in a bored tone.

"Well, unlock it! I don't want to be here all night!" I banged against the door which shuddered but did not open. 

More giggles. "Well, I'll try to make this interesting if you're stuck." Before I could say that I didn't care about being bored anymore, I felt a pricking of intense heat on my knees. I screamed. The children giggled harder. I looked down to see why I had felt hot. At that moment, a shot of orange flame flared up and I felt the intense burning again. I screamed louder than before.

"Stop it! Unlock the door!" I started to beat against the door again as the children outside laughed.

"Well," Lucius' voice said calmly, "let me see..."

I felt heat again but it was now from above. Jets of fire flared from the ceiling of my little torture chamber. I managed to duck in time but I howled with terror. The children laughed and clapped with utmost delight. 

For completely unbearably long minutes, Lucius played with the dials that controlled the flames in the oven. Throughout this ordeal, I cried profusely and begged to be let go as the children chortled with delight. 

Finally, there was a drumming of footsteps and a rough, "Lucius! Get away from there!" and the door was opened. Nero Malfoy and Franklin Parkinson's faces poked in, utterly bewildered. I cried big wet tears as Malfoy turned to face behind him to say, "It's James."

My mother gently pushed the men aside and held her hands out. I jumped into her arms, sobbing into her robes. "James, what were you doing in there?"

Malfoy turned to his son and demanded, "What were you doing?"

"It was all James' idea, Father," he answered with big innocent eyes. Lucius continued, "We were all wondering what happens when food goes into the ovens and James suggested the idea of going in himself and seeing." 

"It's twue, Misther Malfoy," Yvonne Zabini lisped in Lucius' defense. 

"We just wanted to know." Narcissa then responded with a slight frown, "Are we in trouble, Mister Malfoy?" She looked up at the adults with her cute big eyes. "We didn't know James would be so upset."

Parkinson sighed, "Nero, old friend, they're just children. They don't know better."

Mrs. Zabini nodded and commented, "They were just curious, the dears. Inquisitive little ladies and gentlemen. They meant no harm."

"Lucius," Nero said sternly, "what have we learned today?"

"Don't put people in ovens?" Lucius replied.

"And why not?"

"Because they'll cry?"

"Because ovens are hot and dangerous. Only adults can use the ovens, not little children. I don't want you near those ovens again. Am I making myself clear, young man? Do the rest of you understand?"

"Yes, sir," the children chorused except me who was still crying. 

"For goodness sakes!" Mrs. Malfoy scowled, "Clean up your son, will you? He can't come to dinner like _that_."

"Come, James," my mother said, clearly disappointed in my apparent lack of judgment, "you're filthy."

As she led me to the bathroom, I said, sniffling, "I didn't want to."

"James, it's okay to make mistakes. Just don't do that again, scared me half to death."

"It wasn't my idea."

"James, it's alright. I'm not going to punish you. I forgive you."

I sniffled. No one ever believes me, I thought. 

*** ***

It was a lovely early autumn's day. The leaves were starting to change colour and the nippy breeze shuffled through the branches. A few fluttered down, dancing through the air. 

There was a brick school next to the playground. Children dashed to and fro, laughing. The little boys played sports and tag, screaming and hollering as their breath steamed.

Except for one. One little boy sat under a large scrawny tree staring at the children playing. They didn't notice the boy, no one even glanced at him sitting there. He was wearing a brown coat that was much too large and obviously second-hand. There was a plaid hat next to him but he kept his ugly lima bean-green scarf and mustard-yellow mittens (which I could only see the tips off) on. 

Perhaps the sitting out was part of one of the games? But with a quick glance I could tell that no other boy was sitting by himself. The boy was obviously being left out. With a sigh, noticing absently that I couldn't even see my breath, I walked towards the lonesome fellow under the tree.

He had untidy black hair that sprung up in tuffs. He appeared to be very thin and his oversized coat was not helping matters. His eyes were closed when I approached but I saw that he was wearing glasses with the nose bridge held together by what appeared to be clear Spellotape. The wind brushed the fringes away from his forehead and I saw a clear scar shaped like a lightning bolt. 

The boy sighed, his steam escaped like a huge cloud and he opened his eyes and looked up in my direction. I knew he couldn't see me because he seemed to be looking right through me at the sky. My breath caught in my throat.

Those _eyes_. They were like emeralds, like sunshine raining down between summer leaves, like grass. Like _Lily's_. Hundreds, thousands of times I had gazed into those very orbs and I would know them anywhere. I felt my hair and examined my bone structure. My black hair felt untidy and sprung up in tuffs and I was very thin. I also wore glasses.

I couldn't help but smile. "Merlin! He's my son! He has her wonderful, beautiful eyes. Oh, I wish you could see me or hear me. I want to know everything!"

But then I did a double-take. His eyes were like Lily's, true, but while hers shone with a light filled with hope and promise, his were shuttered and sad. Not the sadness that one experiences when a friend is sick one day but the sadness that runs deep to the core of one's being. I was looking into the eyes of someone who never laughed or played and faced constant misery and disappointment every hour of every day of every year. I glanced again at the clothes he was wearing. This child experienced no love. I looked again, maybe I had made a mistake. But the harder I looked, the more he resembled Lily or myself in the reflection in the puddle. 

He was my son but why was he so _sad_? This wasn't right. Where was I? Where was Lily? Why is he around _Muggles_, I wondered as I noticed that not one of those children was playing any magical games. I felt compelled to hug him, ask him to ask for anything and it would be done but I knew it would be no use. 

"Harry!" Someone called. The boy reacted and looked around to see who was calling him.

"Harry?" I repeated, "is that his name?"

Three boys came running over, panting hard. The one in front was massive. It reminded me of a human shaped cream puff in a coat and scarf. He was blond and had a round, fat face. His two friends were dwarfed beside him but otherwise were unremarkable. 

"What is it, Dudley?" Harry asked, looking surprised.

"Headmistress sent us to deliver a message."

"I didn't do it."

"Nah, you're not in trouble this time, Potter," one of the friends replied. The other snickered but he was promptly elbowed. "Tell 'im, Dudley."

"Your parents are here to see you."

Harry's face momentarily lit up but quickly fell. "My parents are _dead_," he spat, "I'm not _stupid_."

My heart stopped beating. Dead? We're _dead_? 

"That's what we thought but turns out they're not. They were in..."

"Hospital," the snickering friend supplied. "Memory loss."

"Right," Dudley grunted. "They want to take you home and everything."

Harry blinked. "Really?" he stammered.

"Really."

"They're really here? At school and everything?"

"Yup."

"And they're going to take me... back home? With them? To their house?"

"No," Dudley drawled, "they're taking you back to our house. Wanted a spin. Yes, stupid, their house."

_Our_ house? Why does Harry live with Cream Puff?

"And I'll live with them?" Harry actually cracked a real grin.

"Yes, unless you wants us to go back and tell them 'never mind'," the first friend suggested.

Harry bolted up. "No! I'm coming! Where are they?"

"Come with us," the snickering boy responded. The four boys trotted inside. The three friends kept together in front of Harry. Harry had his hands clasped together and saying softly, "Thank you! Thank you so much! I'll be really good now! I'll be the nicest boy they could ever have! I won't cause any more accidents, I promise! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Tears of joy were actually coming to his green eyes. My heart melted. Everything was going to be okay. 

But then I glanced up the boys ahead and my heart sank. The boys were snickering, trying to muffle themselves with their hands. They reminded me of Lucius and the other pure-bloods whenever I got convinced to do something particularly stupid and get laid the blame. 

"He believes us," one whispered.

"He's so dumb," the another replied.

Dudley made a motion for the two to quiet down since Harry had caught up.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Harry asked, "Are we going to the office? Are they waiting there?"

"No," the first friend responded slowly, "they have a... special room for you to... talk."

"Oh, right. Headmistress probably has stuff to do. So, is it close? Do they have to sign papers or anything? Or do we just leave? Is it in a classroom? Is my mum pretty? Is my dad tall? Do I look like them? Do they have scars too?"

"HARRY!" Dudley hollered, "Shut up! I'm trying to think of where to put you... I mean, where your parents are."

"Okay, just think fast!" Harry ordered excitedly. He turned to a glass display case where he was reflected. So was I but no one but myself could see it. He looked a lot like me. Why does he have to be in this horrible place? Harry attempted to fix his hair and make it lay flat but I knew it was futile effort. Besides, I thought he looked precious anyway. 

One of the friends, the snickering one, made a motion like he was sweeping. The boys nodded. Dudley said, "We remember now. Come on."

"Goodie!" Harry sang, bouncing away from his reflection. "Is it close?"

"Yeah."

A corridor away, they paused in front of a broom closet. "That's it?" Harry asked excitedly as if he couldn't think of a better place for a reunion. "Are they in there? Are they waiting for me?"

"Yeah," the rat-faced friend replied, smiling, "now, cover your eyes as we open the door and just walk right in. Your parents told us to tell you that."

"Oh, okay," Harry stammered and quickly squeezed his eyes tight and clapped his hands over his glasses. The snickering boy opened the door and Dudley grabbed Harry by the shoulder gingerly as if he was diseased. He pushed him forward into the closet until he was inside. Dudley leapt out and the boys slammed the door behind Harry's back and locked it. 

A minute passed in which Harry slightly mumbled, "Mum? Dad? You here? It's me, Harry, your son. You called me here. Hello?" The boys clung to each other, clamping their mouths shut to avoid laughing. Eventually, they couldn't hold it anymore and roared with laughter. 

Harry finally realized that he had been tricked. He screamed wordlessly. Harry tried to turn the door knob but it was locked. The door shuddered as Harry seemed to kick it. "OPEN THIS DOOR!" The boys just laughed and laughed. 

A scary old woman in a Muggle dress suit marched down the corridor. "What is this noise?" she demanded shrilly.

The boys immediately stopped laughing but before they could explain themselves, the door flew off the hinges with a loud bang, smashing it against the wall. Harry was half-panting, half-growling from fury, his teeth clenched tight. His hands were balled into little fists and his eyes were glowing from anger and grief. Harry stepped out of the closet, not noticing his audience. 

"Mr. Potter!" the woman screamed and Harry jumped in surprise, looking like a snared rabbit. 

"Headmistress!" Harry stammered. "I don't-don't-don't know how or why or what but the door just flew-flew-flew off and I-I-I..."

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Potter! You're going to sit in my office until your aunt and uncle arrive to pay for that door! I want _you_ to tell them who was responsible for the damage!"

"But I... how could I...?"

"You tell me how that door flew off then! Hm? Magic?"

"No, ma'am. There's no such thing as magic."

*** ***

There was a great, white light. It was so beautiful. So pure. I was propelled towards it, my hands outstretched. If I could get to the light, I'd be okay. Everything would be better. 

I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, stopping me from moving forward. I looked at my shoulder. It was my father's hand. 

"Father?" I asked.

"Yes, James," he said. He was not aged like he had been in death but youthful like during my childhood. It was comforting.

"Father," I explained, "I have to go to the light."

"No, James. Don't go to the light. I won't be able to help you if you do."

"But, Father, I must. Please let me go," I pleaded. 

"I can't. I won't. James, it is not your time."

"But it's calling me. It's so close," I answered. "It feels so good from here."

"You mustn't go, James. Please, listen to me."

"But, the light, Father..."

"Once you enter the light, you can't go back. When it is your time, I will gladly walk with you but not now. Not today. You must go back."

"It's horrible back there."

"Lily needs you. Go back to her. Go back to your child, James. They need you more than I. You have terrific things to do that you can not yet understand."

"What things? Father, what things must I do?"

"James, the time will come when your every breath will make a difference."

"I'm not ready. I'm only one person. I can't do this."

My father smiled at me. "You can. And you'll say the same when your son expresses such doubts."

"I don't understand."

"You will. Trust me, you will."

"Father, the light, please let me go the light," I repeated.

"No, James. You need to go back."

"Father, I have so much to say. There are things that I should have done..."

"Shh..." my father hushed me, "I know. I've heard everything. There's no need to say anything."

"Did you really die... the way he said?"

"Yes."

"Were you scared?"

"No, strangely enough. I just kept thinking of what you'd like me to do. I've taught you well."

"I'm scared."

"James, you'll find that courage when the time comes for you to need it. Don't give up. I'm on your side, James, I'm always on your side."

I hugged my father tightly, barely controlling my tears. "Why does it have to be like this?" He wrapped his arms around me tight and rubbed my back.

"I don't know but don't cry, James. I'm not sad. I haven't truly left you and I never will. I love you, James, my son."

"I love you and I miss you and I wish I could bring you back." I gulped and smiled. "And I'm proud of you, too. You kept to your values. Thank you."

"I'm glad. It's time for you to go, James. You must return."

"I want to stay with you."

"That time will come," he said soothingly. "I'll be waiting."

"I love you." Now that I could say it, I couldn't seem to stop.

"I love you, too. Good bye, James."

"Daddy?" a tiny voice near my knees asked. I drew myself from my father's embrace. I looked down at the tiny three-year-old boy with black hair, green eyes, and a lightning scar. He smiled. "Play with me."

"Go on," my father prompted. 

"Play with me, Daddy," the child giggled and danced out of my reach, away from the light. 

I stumbled forward towards the child. He swung forward and back with his hands clasped behind him. "Where's your mummy?" I asked.

The child looked behind him to the dark void. "There." He grinned up at me. I smiled back weakly. I looked back at my father. He was smiling at me and the child with a definite paternal air.

"Wave bye-bye, Daddy!" The child commanded cheerfully, waving his arms madly as my father waved his palm. I laughed and waved too. 

"I love you, James."

"I love you, too, Father. I love you so much."

"Tag!" The child sang as he patted my leg. "You're It!" Laughing, he skipped towards the void. Feeling better than I had felt in months, I chuckled and ran after him as my father called out, "Give my love to your mother!"

"I will!" I yelled back. 

Then I ran and ran, following the little child, both of us laughing the entire time. I felt like I was flying.

*** ***

My eyes snapped open.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Yikes! This is long! Longer than chapter six and that was huge! Oh, right, comments. "Fleas" and "jabs" are British terms, similar to American "cooties" and "cootie shots". No song though which is a shame. Thanks to sugarquill.net for telling me about "fleas" and "jabs". Oh, the Hedwig Hat really exists! At the Sugarquill.net, there's a running gag about how Ginny is obsessed with socks which I don't get at all. Of course, a Terra fanfic is not complete without at least one dream sequence! I use dreams way too much. Originally, I wasn't planning on making this so touching at the end but it came out that way so I left it in. I think it works better. What did you think? Tell me via the review button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! I write back to every review and it helps if you leave your e-mail address. Thanks! See ya later!


	14. Morning After

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Fourteen: Morning After

I shot straight up but found myself tangled in weird tubes and bandages. I couldn't see anything but blurs, which meant I wasn't wearing my glasses. There was a deluge of bells, whistles, and mechanical screeches. I flailed madly about, trying to dislodge myself from the tubes when I heard someone run into the room.

"Mr. Potter!" a young woman's voice protested. "Please, stay calm!"

"Where am I?" I demanded.

"In St. Mungo's. Please, sir, if you would just relax, I'll get your..."

"Where's my wife? Where's Lily? Where are my glasses?" I worked on removing the tubes but the woman screamed and restrained me.

"Please, those have to stay in! Stay calm!"

"How am I supposed to stay calm? I'm connected to these weird tubes, I can't get out of this bed, I don't know where my wife is, I don't know how I got here, and I can't see!"

The woman moaned. "Oh, God, he's gone blind!"

"I'm not blind! I'm severely near-sighted! I want my glasses!" I made a terrible effort to throw the woman off but I found I was very weak and my limbs weren't operating the way they should. 

"If I give you your glasses, will you stop trying to take your tubes out? Will you stay calm so I can summon your doctor?"

"Yes, just give me my glasses!" I heard the clink of glasses being touched against a plastic surface before being open and put on my face. The woman was wearing a white nurse's uniform. She was very young, probably just out of Hogwarts, with short black hair. She was very bony and freckled with frightened hazel eyes. She was panting heavily. 

"Now you have your glasses. Can you see now?"

"Yes. Where am I?"

"In St. Mungo's as I've said before." 

"How did I get here?"

"I don't know, sir. I'm going to call your doctor. He'll explain everything." She hit a button over my head. Within seconds, a team of doctors in Medi-Wizard uniforms and nurses came into my room. 

"Doctor Harvey, this man has just woken up," the young nurse stammered, "I heard him flailing about and he doesn't seem to know why he's here."

"I understand," Doctor Harvey, a man in his early-thirties with a thick brown beard, answered friendly. "Thank you, Nurse O'Collins. You may continue your rounds." Nurse O'Collins shuffled out of the room as quickly as possible. Once she was gone, the other Medi-wizards and nurses examined the chart at the end of my bed and the many beeping, whistling, and whirring machines around me. Doctor Harvey smiled at me and said, "It's good to have you awake at last, Mr. Potter."

"Excuse me, but how did I get here? I don't remember going to hospital."

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

"I wasn't feeling too well, I haven't been for weeks, actually, and a lot of terrible things had happened that day and... I fell asleep on the couch with my wife. That's all."

He sighed and replied solemnly, "Mr. Potter, you've been in a coma for two weeks."

My jaw literally dropped. "WHAT?"

"When you fell asleep, you didn't wake up again. You didn't respond to stimuli, your body temperature had dropped to unhealthy levels, your pulse was weak and rapid, and your breathing was shallow and largely unproductive."

"I thought I was just coming down with the flu!"

"No, Mr. Potter, you had been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" I repeated but then I panicked and machines began to screech, "LILY! Where's Lily?!"

"Your wife is fine. Your friend, Mr. Black I think is the name, is also fine. We feel that it is something that you alone ate or drank."

"What was it?"

"It is the potion normally referred to as the 'Silent Parasite Potion'."

"Isn't that the one where it takes months for it to take effect?"

He nodded. "The very one, Mr. Potter. We would like to know if there is anything you can recollect that you solely ate that passed through the hands of another unknown person. Did you ever order in food that you did not see prepared or assigned someone else to deliver?"

"Well, the only thing I can think of is that my wife has been sending me lunch since January. I don't know what the company is or who made it, though."

He nodded again. "We'll inquire about it to your wife. There might be a particular company in league with You-Know-Who."

"You're sure it's the Dark Lord?"

"An Azkaban prisoner told the Aurors that many people had been poisoned and were going to die soon, regardless of his imprisonment or not."

I thought back on my last encounter with Percy Weatherby. Now, that he mentioned it... "Was the prisoner Percy Weatherby?"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why do you say that?"

"Because the day I fell ill, he told me to 'stay well' and then laughed. I thought he was just mocking me about my father but perhaps this is what he was referring to. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid you are. He told the Aurors that he had personally brewed the potions himself."

"Sick is what that is," a nurse spat. "Ten people in here for this poison."

"Ten people?" I asked, astonished.

"You're the only one who is awake. You were the first to come in, of course," Doctor Harvey explained. "But how are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess. A little weak."

"Perfectly normal. You haven't moved in two weeks, I'm not surprised. Well, Mr. Potter, if there is anything else...?"

I shook my head. "No, nothing, thank you."

"I'll continue my rounds. I'll be back again shortly. There is a call button over your head there," he explained, pointing until I turned my head around to look at the green button labeled: "Doctor", "that you can press if anything comes up before I return. Try to just relax a bit. Your body still needs time to heal but the worst, I think, is over."

I settled back into the pillow of my starch white bed. Now that I was alone and calmer, I took in my surroundings. The walls were bleach white. Weird blinking and humming machines surrounded me. The ceiling was tiled with white squares and black specks. There was a vase of mixed flowers on my bedside table along with papers I couldn't identify, probably for medical use. 

I half-dozed briefly before a nurse came in and said calmly, "There's a Mrs. Potter to see you, sir."

"Let her in," I answered. 

I expected it to be Lily but it was my mother. Although I hadn't anticipated her arrival, I felt relieved. It was nice for her to visit.

"Hi, Mother."

"Hello, James."

I couldn't help but laugh. "It seems we're back to where we started; with me laying in bed, all sick."

She chuckled. "Well, at least you still have an upbeat look about it."

"Yes, I guess I do."

"I thought positive, like last time. And it worked again, I see. Your father certainly had at least one good idea."

"I saw him."

My mother was taken aback. "How?"

"I was going towards this white light. It was so warm and nice and I wanted to go so badly but he stopped me."

"Did he really?" My mother asked, sitting on the edge of the bed like she did when I was younger. 

I nodded. "He said it wasn't my time yet. And then I told him all the things I've been thinking but I couldn't say because I thought he was gone. But he isn't really gone, you know. He's still here and everything. Just because he's dead doesn't mean he's gone for good. I know that now."

"Of course."

"And it was so nice. I finally got to say everything I wanted to say and we just kept saying 'I love you' over and over again. I wanted to stay a little longer but he convinced me to go." I laughed. "He was all young again, like when I was really little. He was going to wait, he told me. Oh, and he gives his best to you, of course. I think he misses you."

"I miss him, too."

"I wish you could have been there. It was so nice. I can't explain it. I really, really wish you could have been there too."

"I know and I wish that too."

"You'll see him again. He's the lucky one, one hundred years is nothing to him. But it's has to be frustrating too, just waiting for us."

"Dear? Are you crying?"

I felt my face and there were tears running down my face. "Seems so. But I'm not sad in the slightest. Actually, I haven't felt this happy in months. It felt so good to talk to him again. I feel like there was this heavy weight on me that's gone now. You know what I mean?"

"I do. I'm happy that you're still here. Your father must really be watching over you. There were some close calls but your father was right, it wasn't your time." For a little while we talked over how she was doing before she had to go to a prior appointment.

"Visit again soon, okay? And bring a book, I'm really kind of bored here," I reminded. She nodded and left. 

Soon after she left, I started getting itchy. The itch never went away no matter where I scratched. Then the itch turned into a twinge. The twinge turned into a throb. The throb turned into pain. The pain turned into agony. The agony turned into torture. By the time Doctor Harvey returned an hour after his departure, I was screaming and howling in my bed. Even my hair hurt. 

"Mr. Potter? Are you alright?" he demanded over my cries.

"No, of course not! I feel like I'm dying!"

"On a scale from one to ten, one being lowest, ten being highest, how would you rate your pain?"

"Can I try fifteen?!" I howled. "Oh, God! Someone knock me out!"

"We're going to try some pain relieving charms, Mr. Potter."

They went through every pain relieving charm in the entire world and then made up some. No matter how much power they put into it, I felt nothing. They might as well as had done nothing at all. 

Four hours later, they turned to potions. Half of the potions were eliminated because they would react with an element in the poison, which might have still remained in my body. A large bulk was also not considered because they weren't strong enough. Finally, there was only three possible choices left. Then one had to be removed because I was allergic to it.

They tried the first one. They might as well as given me water and I was forced to spent six hours in agony waiting for the useless potion to take effect but it never did. 

Around eleven at night, I was still hissing in pain and now exhausted as well. The doctors and nurses looked at each other with anxiety written on their faces. They had to figure out a solution. 

"We have to try it," Doctor Harvey commanded.

"But it's very powerful!" a nurse responded.

"We need powerful."

"We'll need a waiver!"

"Then get one." The nurse darted out of the room as Doctor Harvey bent down to speak to me.

"Mr. Potter? Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I hissed through clenched teeth. 

"Is there any change in your symptoms?"

"No!"

"There is one last thing we can try."

"Then try it!"

"It's very powerful. It's the 'Euphoria Potion' and it's a controlled substance so we don't use it very often."

"Thanks for the medicine lesson! I don't care what it is, just give it to me!"

"We need you to understand that the side effects are very powerful. It will cause you to be 'out of sorts', let's say, for a couple of days until the inflammation has stopped."

"Basically, I'll be high, is that what you're saying?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"Yes, precisely. I want you to consider this carefully. Many people wouldn't like to experience..."

"Will it take the pain away?" I demanded sharply.

"It is the strongest pain relieving potion known to wizards at this time."

"Then I don't care if it's _illegal_. Give it to me now." I ordered slowly. 

The nurse returned with a legal waiver. Doctor Harvey asked firmly, "You do understand the effects of this treatment?"

"Yes."

"You agree fully to this treatment? You were not convinced to try this approach?"

"Yes, I agree. No, this is my decision."

"Please sign." It was absolute agony holding the quill and signing my name. I screamed several times. Finally, the last letter of my last name made it on paper and I could fall back into the soft pillow that felt like red-hot desert sands to my body. 

The potion was delivered swiftly and put into my drips. "The lowest possible dose, please," Doctor Harvey reminded the nurse, who nodded. The needle was pressed into my body, a lever was pulled and the potion entered my body.

The effect was immediate. It was like dipping in a cool pool of water after walking naked in the scorching sun. I practically cried from relief. 

"How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?" Doctor Harvey asked.

"Oh, this is so nice," I moaned. 

"How would you rate your pain now, Mr. Potter?"

"Negative 5. Oh, oh, oh. This is so _good_."

"Well, that was a success. Write this down for future reference when the others wake up."

"They're going to _love_ this, trust me," I told him, laughing. "Oh, I feel so _great _right now."

With each passing second, I went from feeling good to feeling absolutely fantastic and above and beyond. My mind began to fog over and everything seemed very far away. I was beyond absolutely happy, there is no word for the feeling I had. For the next three days, I drifted from sleep to being awake but it made little difference. I sort of perceived people coming and going from my room but I couldn't tell who they were at what time or even if all of them were real. 

After my trip to La-La Land during those three days, I woke up sober on the fourth morning. I was mildly disappointed that I had lost that feeling but it was refreshing to see the world clearly for a change. There were more flowers on my bedside table along with some "Get Well" cards. I was stiff but no longer in pain. I was also bored again.

Luckily, someone rapped on the jam of my open door. 

"Hey," Sirius called softly, "are you awake, James? I came to visit."

"Yeah," I answered back in a normal tone, "I'm awake."

Sirius frowned briefly. "What, no more Junkie James?"

" 'Junkie James'?" 

"You were on drugs, James. Therefore, you are a junkie."

"It wasn't like that!" I retorted.

"Says you. You didn't see yourself." Sirius dragged over a chair and sat on it. "I didn't bring flowers, you've got enough."

"I'm crushed by your cruelty," I replied sarcastically. "Where's Lily?"

"Doctor. It's called something special..."

"Pre-natal?"

"That's it. Anyway, she's there." I narrowed my eyes. "What's wrong with that?"

"She's there alone?" I asked.

"Well, I have to visit you, didn't I?"

"I wasn't going to run away. Your job is to stay near her and make sure nothing happens."

"She walked into the doctor's office. She stays in the doctor's office for hours. She walks outside to a taxi. The taxi drives as close as he can to St. Mungo's. She gets out of the taxi and rides her broomstick the rest of the way. I'll think she can manage."

"Sirius, have you been living under a rock? My father got kidnapped while buying Communication Powder! And he _had_ his wand!"

"She was getting suspicious! And she doesn't like anyone but you with her in the doctor's office." With a high-pitched voice, he added using his fingers to indicate a direct quotation, " 'It's private'." He continued in his normal voice, "My original plan was wait in the waiting room until she was done but she _insisted_ that I visit you." Again with the same high-pitched voice, he went on to say, " 'What if he wakes up and no one's there? How will he feel? He'll think we don't _care_.'" Back to his natural voice, he concluded, "And since she was raising such a fit about your emotional needs, I came here. And this is the thanks I get. Look, if you want me to go back, I will."

I buzzed my lips in annoyance. "No, stay."

"Speaking of emotional needs," Sirius began with a clear look of irritation, "the next time you're going to pass out and go into a coma, could you refrain from saying terribly cryptic and morbid things to your wife?"

"What did I say?"

" 'If I die, don't kill yourself'. Excellent thing to say, James. Lily practically had a panic attack when we couldn't wake you. It took hours to calm her down enough to get some sense in her head."

"Well, I bet just me not waking up would have caused the same reaction."

"Yeah, but it made it ten times worse. She just kept thinking about that, repeating it over and over."

"Have you come here just to yell at me?" I asked. 

Sirius put his head on the back of the chair over his folded arms. "James, you have no idea what it was like those two weeks. I have never been that afraid my entire life." He slightly turned his head so only his eyes could be seen. "I guess I should tell you what happened after you fell asleep."

"Sure."

"Well, I went to the grocer's when you were getting all sick."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I was going anyway, I was waiting for you to come home first. Anyway, so I took my time so you would have some time to compose yourself before I got back. When I finally did, you had already fallen asleep on the couch and Lily was reading one of those pregnancy advice books. I put all the food away and came back and looked at you. James, you looked absolutely awful. You were this unhealthy pale colour. I caught Lily's attention and asked her what was wrong but she hadn't really noticed the colour until I pointed it out. I tried to see if you had a temperature but you were like ice, it was really spooky. Your breathing was really forced and shallow. So, I tried seeing if you could wake up. It was really to see if you were even alive."

"Did I?"

"You know how even if you shake someone and they don't really wake up, they kind of flutter their eyes or moan or try to push away? You did nothing. You gave no sign of even noticing me. I tried everything. Then you stopped breathing all together. I tried feeling for your heart but I couldn't feel it beating."

"My heart stopped beating?"

"Completely. It was for maybe ten to twenty seconds but it was long enough for us to realize that you needed to get to St. Mungo's right that minute. So, I made Lily call them on the fire while I tried to wake you up again, which didn't work. Then you were brought here and connected to all this stuff. We were allowed to stay in the room but your heart stopped three times while we were here."

"My heart stopped beating again?!"

"After the third time, the doctors made us wait outside. So, then, I called Peter who had Remus over and..."

"Remus? How was Remus there?"

"Turns out he was on holiday for the next three weeks. He spent two of it worrying over you. He's still here and he's only got two days to enjoy with you. Anyway, that's not the point. So, they rallied around. Then Remus called your mother and Marguerite, who happened to be just off duty, came around to console Lily, which was a relief because I was running out of comforting things to say. Your mother told us all about your father's idea of 'positive thinking' to which Lily said, and I quote, 'that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my entire life.' To which your mother replied, 'That's what I said and it still worked anyway.'" 

"Sounds like quite an adventure."

"Yeah, it gets better. Finally, the doctors said that they got you 'stabilized' but you still weren't awake and if any of those machines were turned off, you'd die. They made us go home because there was nothing we could really do at that point. Of course, Lily wasn't exactly relaxing on the couch or anything."

"How is she now?"

"Well," Sirius answered with a little smile, "she was happy when she found out you were awake. We received the news late so we didn't come in time. We were at the Lupins' so Lily could get out of house and not be either at home or at the hospital worrying over you. Not that she didn't anyway but I did try to make her feel better. They delivered the message to your house, not to us specifically so we found an owl there when we got back and by that time, it was already too late to go so there was no point."

"When did you guys come?"

"The next morning as soon as possible. The four of us, Lily, Remus, Peter, and me, went." Sirius started to snicker. "That's when we found out about the pain medication. I knew a group of illegal drug dealers in Recluse Proper, they made that Euphoria Potion all the time and sold eye-droppers full at parties in Recluse Proper, although I'm sure the kids there weren't their only customers. Anyway, that's what first came to my mind and I was trying so hard not to laugh because I knew why you had to take it."

"I was in severe pain," I sharply reminded.

"I know. They told us how you were screaming from pain. I knew that stuff is powerful though, that's why it's illegal to bootleg it without a license and without a prescription. I remember people taking it and falling asleep as they were walking around. Bad stuff could happen, you could fall asleep as you were walking home and fall into the river or hit your head. But I had to laugh because it was you."

"Thanks. You said earlier that I didn't see myself so calling me a junkie was justified."

Sirius actually laughed out loud. "Oh, you were a riot. Well, after the doctor explained the situation, we were let in. You were just lying there in your bed, calm as anything. I've never seen you happier, I'm not kidding. You spoke in this really excited, little kid voice but you could barely connect two thoughts together. You would actually fall asleep in the middle of your sentences! Your eyes kept wandering too and you kept losing your concentration. You kept changing the subject, sometimes in mid-sentence! Oh, and you kept forgetting who was in the room. Like, you greeted us all when we came in and started talking to me and then you greeted, say, Remus again, asking when he got here then talk to him, and then come back to me and ask when I got here! It was so funny, I couldn't barely keep myself from laughing. You just said whatever floated across your mind. You said some _very_ interesting stuff, I must say."

I began to get worried. "What sort of stuff?"

"Oh, should I tell you?' Sirius asked himself, then he nodded, "Yeah, I will, just to see your reaction. Okay, Lily was sitting by your head, I was sitting where I'm sitting now, Remus was standing at the foot of the bed, and Peter was by the wall. So, we're talking to you and you're rambling on when you stop and kind of half-dozed again, you did that a lot, until you stared at Lily and asked," Sirius made his voice sound very high-pitched and somewhat slurred, his impression of my voice, " 'Did you have our baby yet?'"

He changed to a more feminine voice, his parody of Lily, " 'No, we have three months left.'

" 'But I want it _now_!'"

" 'I'm sorry but the baby is going to come when it's ready.'"

" 'No! Not the baby! I want to have sex now!'" Sirius began laughing so hard that he nearly fell out of the chair.

"I did not say that," I gasped, horrified.

"You did and in front of everyone!" Sirius chortled, gasping for breath, "Peter just fell over laughing. He could barely breathe! It gets better." He composed himself again and changed his voice back to Lily's high pitched squeak, " 'But you can't! You're in bed anyway!'"

" 'That's okay! We can work around that! Come on, jump up here!'"

" 'There's people here! All your friends are here!'"

" 'So what? They can watch! We'll be entertaining and educational!'"

"Educational?" I asked.

Sirius was too busy laughing to answer.

"I'm so embarrassed," I muttered, putting my face in my hands.

"And then you just moved on about French literature or something," he gasped out. "Oh, it was her face, James. Lily was so red. But she was happy that you were alive. She was a nightmare for those two weeks. I had to sleep with her to shut her up at night." His eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his mouth. 

"You had to WHAT?!" I managed enough adrenaline to press myself up on my elbows.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Sirius said behind his mouth. 

"Then how did you mean it?!"  
"I didn't _sleep_ sleep with her. I just slept in the same bed, on top of the covers and everything."

"I'm not getting convinced here."

"I was Padfoot! Even Crookshanks was between us!"

"Who are you? Siegfried saving Brunhilde? Was there a ring of fire involved perchance?"

"It was completely innocent, James. Lily was a nervous wreck. It took forever to get her to go to bed and sleep. When she finally did, she had nightmares about you dying. Every single time, I had to get up and calm her down so she could go back and have another nightmare. I got sick of getting up every five minutes so I finally said to hell with it and stayed in her room as Padfoot. _And_ Lily said that having me there beside her made her calm because she didn't feel so alone." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned, "I know how that sounds. It sounds like the beginning of a bad radio soap opera story arc but you didn't see her. When they come, ask Peter and Remus, they'll tell. Ask Marguerite, if you want. Lily was not in a good state at all. She was crying at the drop of a hat. I tried _everything_ to calm her down. I know that pregnant women shouldn't get too stressed out or their babies will miscarry and all that. That bed was covered in all those stuffed animals that we've bought along with Crookshanks and me. She needed company, she needed support. You told me to care take of her, so I did."

I glared at Sirius for a very long time, reading his eyes for any sign that he was being even remotely false. His eyes were worn-out and pained. Slowly, bitterly, I came to accept that Sirius was telling the truth but I had to ask, "You swear that you did nothing."

"Believe me, the experience was not a turn-on in any way. If I had another way, I would have done it. It was the only thing I could think of. You can ask Lily if you really don't believe me."

Before I could respond, Lily barged in happily. "Hi, James! Are you really off the medication?"

"Yes, I am. Can I ask a question?"

"Anything!"

"Did you really sleep with Sirius?"

Lily flushed red with anger and Sirius put his arms over his head in preparation. "Sirius! Why did you tell him that?"

"It came out! I didn't mean to!" Sirius pleaded, crouched in the chair as Lily took a swipe. 

"I bet you told him all about the nightlight!" Lily accused. 

"Actually, I had forgotten all about that."

There was dead silence for a few moments. Finally, I said, "You slept with a nightlight?"

"Go ahead! Laugh!"

"I didn't even know we had one."

"I bought one earlier this year. But I bet he told you about the stuffed animals."

"He did. Along with Crookshanks and him."

Lily sighed, looking clearly embarrassed, "Look, it wasn't like that at all. The bed just seemed so big so I put stuff in it to clutter it up, Sirius was just there to fill up space and to save time from running up and down the house to comfort me. I just kept having these nightmares... and..." She choked up and tears began to rain down her face.

"Oh, Lily, don't cry, sit down now. Move, Sirius!" I shooed Sirius out of his chair and he led Lily to sit down in it. "It's alright."

"I was so scared all the time. I knew that any minute... any minute... you'd be dead... I didn't know what'd I do... if you died... please, don't be mad..." She began to wail. I hoisted myself up in order to pull her close to me and let her cry into my chest. Sirius mumbled something about drinks and left the room. 

"I'm here, Lily. I'm not mad, I just wanted to make sure. I trust you, it just sounded a bit... liberal, I guess."

"Oh... I understand... I totally understand... I mean, if you had done the same thing with, like, Olivia, then I would have been furious." She sniffled into my hospital robe. "I mean," she began, wiping her eyes with her hand but not moving away from me, "Padfoot was not my ideal companion and I hated having him there. I felt like such a baby, like when I was little and I would sleep in my parents' room after I had a nightmare. I thought I had outgrown that." I stroked her hair as she spoke softly, "I would cry myself to sleep. And I had all those nightmares. Sirius was so good about everything, he had to put up with a lot from me. Even the waking day was like one long nightmare that wouldn't end. I missed you so much and you were in here dying and there was... there was..." she choked up again.

"Shh... I'm fine now. It's over. Don't cry."

"This is a mild version of what I was like for the past two weeks," Lily joked, hugging me tight. "Don't ever think that Sirius was a fine replacement because he definitely was not. His dog breath is horrible," she giggled. "And he snores."

"He does snore but it's not that bad. Maybe being a dog makes it worse."

"Maybe. Oh, I thought I'd never hear your voice again."

I tutted, "What a little pessimist! Have you no faith at all?"

But Lily didn't laugh. She just looked up at me with wet eyes. "You were very close."

"But I didn't. I'm still here. We're going to have that baby soon, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"Well, I wasn't about to miss that." I smiled and added jokingly, "But if that baby comes out with blue eyes, I'm going to be upset."

Lily laughed. "James! All babies have blue eyes at first!"

I kissed her on the forehead and smiled. "You know what I mean, you little scarlet woman."

Lily cocked her head back and laughed fully. "Yes, I'm playing around with your delicate little heart!"

"Scarlet woman!"

"I seriously can't believe you people still use that phrase!" She jumped slightly. "Baby kicked," she explained with a slight smile. 

"He's telling us to keep the noise down. Probably studying for his O.W.L.s already."

"That was last month, James. This month, he's reviewing for the N.E.W.T.s!" Lily joked. 

For the next hour, Lily and I talked freely about what we were going to do the minute I was allowed to leave that stupid bed and loving every minute of it.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: What's with this rash of happy endings? It was fun writing that "James on happy drugs" part. Originally, this chapter was a lot sadder which James crying over his father still with his mother, saying how everything is his fault. My friend, Naisumi, recently said that James was crying too much and after some thinking, I realized that she had a point so I went with the "calm and at peace" beginning. I like it better, personally. No, I am not advocating the theory that Sirius secretly loved Lily, it was really pure and innocent. It's exactly how it's explained here. No unresolved sexual tension, understand? Good. Wow, I just realized that this is actually the first funny chapter in a long while. Oh, Siegfried is part of a Norse myth/legend about a woman named Brunhilde who was destined to marry the man who could save her from this ring of fire. This one prince wanted her but he was too cowardly to actually get her so he sent Siegfried instead. So, he spends three nights with her but to make sure he doesn't "taint" Brunhilde for her future husband, he places a sword between them (why it takes three days I have no idea. I mean, he got in fine, why couldn't he grab her and leave?). That's what James was talking about. If you want the full version, since there's more to the story after that, it's in Edith Hamilton's Mythology in the Norse section. Thanks to my buddy who reminded me of the characters' names. Don't worry, Remus fans! He's going to appear sometime soon! I promise! I meant to introduce him (and Peter, although you all would probably rather not have him in this) in this chapter but he didn't fit. Sorry! Anyway, I would appreciate comments and questions through the review button (please leave your e-mail address!) or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com ! I'll write back! See ya later!


	15. Bells

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Fifteen: Bells

I stayed in hospital for another three days in which anyone and everyone I had ever met came to visit. And everyone forgot to bring me a book. Once St. Mungo's had declared me fit to return home, the Ministry sent me work to my home so I could continue to work until I was no longer declared bed-ridden. 

I found out who had been sending me sandwiches. Doctor Harvey had asked Lily about them but she said she had never once ordered me sandwiches. They guessed that Percy himself may have delivered them to me.

Once I had settled in, Sirius remembered that he had been collecting the past newspapers so I could catch up when I woke up again. I spent the first two days looking them over.

To my surprise, my condition was reported along with the other nine people (one of them a young Muggle girl aged eight who had been under the care of a Death Eater posing as a friendly baby-sitter.) No names were given, only descriptions of who they were and their chances of survival. My recovery (although my name was not given) was also reported. For your information, six others survived. Three died, one of them the little Muggle girl. 

However, the suicide of Virginia Lenore Weatherby dominated the press. Many reporters declared it one of the greatest tragedies of the Dark Times. The articles went into detail of her life. It related how Virginia had been brought up with her siblings in a well-established pureblood family, going back many generations. As far as anyone could remember, she was an excellent storyteller and had an excellent talent at guessing ahead. She was in Hufflepuff, along with Jenna Harding who spoke at her funeral and the famous author Gilderoy Lockhart. She was considered a compassionate person who had devoted time and energy to the less-fortunate, especially for children in Quesera based on her friendship with such a child, Jenna. The articles even stated that her will would be divided evenly between her natural family, the Weasleys, and the various charities that she was a part of. The profits of future sales of her books would also go to charity. 

One article detailed an estimate on the last days of her life based on evidence from witnesses and from the place where she demised. It explained the circumstances of her husband's arrest and behavior, and her reaction. The reporter believed that Virginia spent the next month in despair and rage at the betrayal. Witnesses told how she had numerous fits where she would talk to herself, back and forth, playing both sides. She seemed to waste away and she constantly wondered what to do about her unborn child (Jenna confirmed that she had been pregnant). Finally, she made her decision to kill herself. She invited over the Weasley sons for one last visit and gave them numerous treasured items. Close family and friends say that she seemed so happy that they thought the crisis had passed but psychologists, the reporter added, often say that sudden happiness is the worst sign. Three days later, Virginia called her agent and told him to visit the next day at precisely ten o'clock "and not a minute before". She wrote her suicide note and her last requests, leaving them alongside the latest short story and the two poems. She dressed in her finest dress robe (she was buried in the very robe she died in), tied the noose, stepped on to the chair, and kicked it away. She was found at precisely ten o'clock. Doctors said that the possible time of death was most likely 9:30 to 9:50. 

A few days later, the papers were given permission to record what was contained in the papers left behind. The will was already explained so no paper really mentioned that again. 

The short story was written two days before Percy Weatherby's arrest. It was called "Disease". It was the story of a world dying of a grave epidemic. No one knows how the disease was started but they know it's wizard-made. A young woman, Ginny, seeks solace from the disease-ridden world in the company and home of a young doctor, a Doctor Tom Riddle. She is not only hiding from disease but also personal sorrow. She is ignored by her family, teased by her brothers, and her one true love, a man named Henry, barely knows she exists. She pours her soul out of to him and he is a sympathetic listener and seems to care deeply about her problems. The young woman then hears about disappearances and she is beginning to feel ill herself along with having nightmares. The doctor continues to do "blood tests" but he reports that nothing is wrong with her. Finally, he leaves at note at her desk, telling her to meet in a secret room that she was never allowed to enter. When she gets there, she sees all the people that went "missing", including her one true love, Henry, laying dead on tables in heaps. The doctor comes in to explain that it was he who was killing all the people. Something in the blood of some people when mixed with a special snake venom can cause death. He's been taking these special people in to take their blood, mix it with venom and contaminate the water supply to kill everyone. However, after awhile, the chemical seems to run out and the person is useless. So, they must die to avoid having his secret leak out. 

Ginny has become useless and must die. She begs for her life but he's taken so much blood that she's too weak to fight. As the story closes, she is strapped to a table and snakes slither around her body as she screams. The snakes bite and the world goes black. 

One of the poems was written at the beginning of the month of April, two weeks before she died. The poem was also called "Disease". The reporter stated that perhaps Virginia realized that she had been tricked like Ginny in the short story of the same name and thus called the poem that as well. The poem lamented how the supposed subject Percy had contaminated her and she couldn't live on like that. The other poem was titled "Eulogy" dedicated to her unborn child who had to die along with her. In the poem, she regrets having consorted with the little baby's father because if the baby was born, she would hate it with all her soul and no child deserved that. 

The letter that she had left was most frightening of all. Her last requests even said to make sure that this letter was made public because everyone had to know what she had to say. It began like this:

"Dear Reader,

By the time you read this, I will be dead. And you will ask yourself, 'Why did she do this? She wasn't a Death Eater. She did nothing wrong.' Don't make me laugh. What did I do? I am as guilty as my husband. No, I never physically killed anyone. I've never sworn my allegiance to [You-Know-Who] but I am guilty. What am I guilty of? 

Ignorance. By being ignorant, I let it continue. There are many, and until recently I was part of the many, that tell themselves, 'Ah, there is evil but not near me. Not me, not my husband nor my wife, neither my mother nor my father, neither my sister nor my brother, neither my son nor my daughter, neither my friend nor my lover.' That is blindness. That is what finally kills you. By averting your eyes away, clamping your hands over your ears and just refusing to even consider the slightest possibility, then you are more guilty than the men and women actually doing the crimes. 

I AM GUILTY. 

Every time I stopped to think fondly about Percy, I controlled someone against their will. Every time I told him I loved him more everyday, I tortured. Every time I kissed him good-bye as he walked out the door, I killed. I controlled, I tortured and I killed because I refuse to even consider that perhaps he could. I let this continue and you all let this continue!

Ignorance is not bliss. You give them a tool to use: your complacency. Or worse, you think if you keep quiet, neither help nor hinder, then you will be spared. You won't be spared; they will kill your soul if not your body. Do you think my complacency will spare me or the spawn growing inside me? It won't and now I know that. 

Why must I die? Very simple really. My husband used me. He used me to further his own ends. And he won. He won and for awhile, I had won too because I thought my victory was his victory. But he had corrupted that. He turned a beautiful, holy creation in a demonic spawn of himself. But he doesn't know. I never got a chance to inform him of his luck. So, for a month now, I've been pacing and thinking and it grew and grew. It reminded me of him. I know it would grow and be born and look like him. I would despise it. How cruel of him to make me feel this way towards a supposedly wonderful thing. He ruined it. And he doesn't care. He never cared... about anything really. 

I did his little dirty work. I'll admit it, I told him to lie. Even if he was guilty, I told him, lie, say that he didn't do it. But he wouldn't and I was sad. How shameful for me not to even care about who he killed just for my benefit. When I realized that, I realized that he had finally won. The darkness had finally taken over and there was no escape. I was one more point in his little game.

So, now it's time to call his foul. You've won, congratulations, Percy. You won't be reading this but I'll write it anyway, just in case. But, you lose too. I'm tired of playing this game. That's life. I don't care. I'd rather kill myself then be faced with anything associated with you. I hope you're happy. 

Now, since there is time left, I'll leave some parting advice. My friends, don't be sad. This wasn't your fault. This is an issue between me and my husband alone. I'll watch over you all when I'm gone. You have my word.

My readers, young and old, there are many people in my head that will never be. It's sad really but I think you'll understand someday. I'm not dying because I hate life. I'm dying because I value life too much to remain. Darkness is nearly upon me completely and this is the only weapon I have.

My family, my parents and my siblings, please don't cry. I love you dearly and I know this will be painful. You shouldn't blame yourselves. There was nothing you could do for me. I'll never leave your sides and I will wait for you until you grow very old and join me. 

To the Weasleys, I hold no bitterness to you, for this is the hardest time. The betrayal was as sharp to you as it was to me, perhaps more so. To Arthur and Molly, raise your children. Don't abandon them even when they want you to. Cling tight and never let go. You are wonderful parents and you have wonderful children, don't throw that away.

To Bill, the oldest, you are the leader. Your brothers and your sister [the reporter would like to note that the Weasleys have no daughter. No one is quite sure who she is referring to] will look up to you for support and guidance. Be a good example. Love them and cherish them even when they don't cherish themselves. Be good to them when they need it the most.

To Charlie, don't lose that love of life that you have. Embrace everyday like it's your last and you will have a wonderful collection of full yesterdays and promising tomorrows. Take into consideration of your mother's advice but in the end, follow your passions. Support your little siblings when Bill is too busy. Always hold out your hand because someday, they'll need to grasp it tight. And when they do, don't let go. 

To Little Percy, don't blame yourself for your namesake. He was once like you and he went terribly astray. Keep straight and you will get there. Taking shortcuts doesn't end the journey any more quickly. I know that you are the different brother but that doesn't make you any less worthy of respect or love. Your family loves you and they will always love you even at your worst. Don't forget that because they might not always show it. You will be faced with a terrible decision. You will have to choose between your head and your heart. Your days and your nights will wrestle with it and you may think you'll never get back on the right course. I know that you will make the right choice in the end. I trust you.

To Fred and George or George and Fred, keep laughing. Laughter will keep you alive. When you laugh, the world will laugh with you. You will make the sun rise at midnight and the stars twinkle in the noon day sun. Don't let people fool you worse than you fool them into thinking that your humor is unimportant. Even you will not believe the power that you two possess. Stay together and the laughter and courage with be doubled as well.

To my little Ron [as of April 21st, the youngest son, Robert Weasley, had his name legally changed to Ronald after Ms. Lenore's famous character. 'We felt it was her last request,' explained the father, Arthur Weasley], who will live for a time under the chilly shadow of your brothers, you will be mightiest of all. You will doubt this for a long time even when you've obtained your noble status, but trust me, I know. You will be the most important figure in a hero's life and through him and your own soul, you will be a hero as well. Your life, sad to say, will be difficult. Being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be but you'll rise to it and not even realize you're doing it. It will be difficult but it will also be oh-so-rewarding. There will be times when you will be filled to the brim with fury, you will undervalue yourself, and think yourself small. But you will have the strength to realize that your fury is unjustified and use it to your advantage. I see great things happening under your hand. There will be a great evil and a great good to fight it. You will power that great good. I fear I may have betrayed you with a kiss [many speculate that she was actually a Seer. Some wonder whether she is referring to the infamous 'Seer's Kiss', which passes on the Gift should the original Seer die. There is doubt whether the boy will gain the Sight because only ten percent of Kisses are successful] but I hope that it will serve you and your cause. My little godson [Ms. Lenore was named the boy's godmother shortly before he was born], don't lose your spirit when others lose theirs. I believe in you and others will too.

To you who is yet to be born [again, no one has any idea who she could be referring to. The Weasleys claim that Mrs. Weasley is not expecting another child and doesn't plan to have any more children], be wary of the darkness in your soul, the darkness present in all human souls. You will be faced with a dark evil that will try to destroy you. Fight it! Fight it and become stronger through your struggle. Don't lose heart. Remember and never, ever forget: Don't trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain, don't pour out your heart to something if you can't hear its own heart beating. Never forget that.

For the rest of you, there is no Ron Seannings... yet. But there will be. There is a great dam, filling with blood. For years, the level has been rising and rising and now the dam has cracks in it, barely seen but they're there. Tiny, minute cracks. The tide is turning towards the dam and the level rises and rises. The dam is connected to a road which leads to yew tree, gnarled and decayed, feeding off the energy of anything around it. Finally, one day, there will be two drops too much for the dam to hold and it will burst. On the red waves, a child of no prior importance to the general public will ride the crashing waves, rushing towards the single yew tree. The force of the baby will knock the tree's roots out of the ground and it will fall with a shudder. 

The world will rejoice and praise the young boy. The young boy will know nothing. He will be blindfolded for ten years, forced to endure the pricking of thorns of loneliness and the lashing of grief for those two drops too much won't come back. He will have a face that the whole world will recognize except him. Once the ten years are up, he will return, bewildered but pleased at his acceptance in his original birthplace. 

But the world will rejoice overmuch, as it often does. The tree is not dead, just knocked over. Thirteen years will pass and the boy will end up heading down that blood stained road and, against his will and hopes, prop the tree back up. The world will turn on the boy and the boy will have to kill the tree again. This time, completely.

The boy will begin unarmed. However, he will have two allies. One, the Head. The Head will clear his thoughts and formulate a plan for a wondrous sword. The other, the Heart. The Heart will fan the fires of the forge and feed the boy when he is hungry, quench him when he is thirsty, nurse him when he is sick. Through the Heart, the sword will be fashioned and sharpened. Together, the Head and the Heart will train the boy, the Head increasing his skill while the Heart increases his power until the boy is the Sword. These three elements will be inseparable and if two is without one, all will die. 

That is what is coming. Be prepared. Choose your sides wisely. 

The dawn is breaking, and I can see it outside my window. It is beautiful. It will be the last I will ever see on Earth and I am glad that it is so beautiful. I am happy now. There is little left to do. The darkness will not take me. I will make the dam burst sooner than expected. 

My child and I love this world and we are sad to leave it but we are glad it treated us so well.

Stay strong, little children. Ron Seannings won't be a little story for much longer.

With love,

Virginia Lenore".

No, I don't have excellent memory. I have a copy in front of me. Don't be silly. 

I was forced to remain in bed at all hours, except for the occasional toilet break. At first, I felt the need for constant bed rest a little unnecessary so I decided to get up and stretch my legs a bit. For the time required to walk back and forth from bed to toilet, I was fine. However, once that allotted time passed, I began to feel light-headed and weak-kneed. Before I could fall over, Sirius walked in to check if I needed anything. Finding out what I was doing, he practically threw me back into bed, reminding me sternly that I was to stay in bed. I had to agree. 

I spent most of my day in isolation because the pair of them couldn't be at my beck and call at all times. Crookshanks, to my utter surprise, made it his solemn duty to keep me company. That, or he had gotten used to sleeping on the bed for those two weeks. However, with Crookshanks' companionship, Sirius and Lily's check-ups, and my pile of work that I had neglected since the day I went into the coma, I wasn't bored. 

A month after I first went into the coma, in mid-May, I was coming out of an afternoon doze when I heard a door slam and shouting. 

"I can _not_ believe you did that!" Lily's voice hollered while Sirius' laughter floated up to me. "It's not funny!"

"Your face!" Sirius gasped. I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.

"You are such an immature..."

"Immature what?"

"I don't know what but you're immature!"

"Why is Sirius immature?" I asked the pair when they walked into the doorway. Lily turned around to face me and her face immediately softened. There is a magical element in a woman's body that enables them to be furiously screaming mad at someone and then turn around and smile and be all sweet in under a second. 

"Oh, James, did we wake you?"

"No, I was waking up anyway. Why is Sirius immature?" Sirius snorted again as Lily glared at him.

"It's not funny!" Lily hissed.

"It was your face!"

"You're lucky that Marguerite wasn't there! You'd be in big trouble!"

Sirius sobered up. "She doesn't visit that store."

"What if she did? What if I had been talking to her, hm?"

"Is anyone ever going to tell me what he did?" I demanded. 

Lily growled at Sirius before saying, "Your _friend_ here decided that my company was too boring at the market. So, while I went into another aisle, he stayed in the same aisle. Along with a pretty young woman. And then... and then..."

"Violin music began to play, the lights turned down low, and they went into a waltz!" I added. Sirius fell over laughing. 

"No!" Lily answered, "He did that stupid 'help me pretty lady, I'm blind' gag that is so _childish_!"

Sirius' eyes are a very unusual shade of blue. People sometimes think he's blind. Occasionally, when he's bored and a good-looking woman is nearby, he pretends he's blind in order to feel up the poor girl. Once in awhile, the girl figures it out but usually the girl never catches wise. The rest of us always thought it was extremely entertaining but any girl we've explained it to disagreed.

"Hey," Sirius defended, "pretending to be blind is hard work!"

"What happened, Sirius?" I requested.

"Well, I did the whole reaching my arms out and softly calling out for Lily. Finally, I ask if anyone is in the aisle with me and the woman answers, wondering why I'm asking. Of course, I explain that I'm blind and it appears I've lost my friend."

"And of course, being the kind gentlewoman that she is, she offers to help you find her," I reasoned.

"Of course. She was very nice about it, very considerate of my situation."

"What situation?" Lily screamed, "You aren't blind! You used that poor woman's good nature against her! You practically had your hand on her butt!"

"I did not! I had my hand on her back. I remained faithful and true."

"What are you? The Sorting Hat song? So, anyway, when I finally realize that Sirius is missing, he comes around the corner with his arm around her shoulders as she asks me if I'm Lily Potter because I left my 'poor blind friend' in the other aisle!"

Sirius began cracking up again. "Oh, you should have seen her face. She was gritting her teeth in order not to say anything too harsh. I mean, we don't exactly want her to turn against blind people because of me."

"I could've just _died_ from embarrassment."

"It was just a bit of fun. She never caught on, no one knew the difference. Admit it, it was funny."

"It was _not_ funny in the slightest."

"I just wanted to see if I could still do it and I can. Kind of nice, I haven't done it for... two years now?"

Lily just rolled her eyes and went over to sit on the bed. "How was your afternoon, James?"

"I finished that report," I explained, pointing to a folder, "so if you would send that along with the owl, that would be great. And I took a slight doze. That's it. I'm feeling better. Can I get out now?"

"James, the doctors all said not to push yourself. But I'll call to see if they think you can get out of bed, okay?"

I threw my arms into the air and cheered. Lily laughed. Sirius finally decided to enter the room to sit on a chair. He appeared to be in deep concentration. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Hm?"

"You look thoughtful."

"I guess I am thoughtful." After a minute of silence, Lily said, "About...?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you wanted to know what," Sirius answered, rolling the chair back and forth on its wheels. "Well, I've been thinking about something for awhile now and I want to know what you two think."

Lily and I looked at each other in surprise. It was rare when he cared what others thought of his decisions if he even bothered to inform people of what they were. "Go on," Lily suggested.

"Um... I want... I guess I'm planning to... ask Marguerite to marry me."

Lily clapped her hands together. "Oh, Sirius! That's wonderful! I'm happy for you!"

"You really think it's a good idea?"

"Well, if you really love her, then I say it's alright."

I had my doubts. I clearly remembered Sirius' objection to an early marriage. Lily and I had known each other much longer than Sirius and Marguerite had. Biting my tongue against calling my best friend a hypocrite, I asked, "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius responded.

"I mean, you were always against early marriages, weren't you?"

Sirius waved his hand as if to cast the idea away. "Oh no, this is completely different."

"It is?"

"There's a big difference between a seventeen year old and a twenty-five year old. I'm a mature adult, not some kid just out of Hogwarts. I can make better decisions."

That was all a matter of opinion. "But marriage is a huge commitment. Your parents should have at least showed you that." I had committed the absolute sin by bringing up Sirius' parents, all of us have topics that no one brings up unless the person with the issue in question brings it up, but I had to make sure he had thought of this.

"I know. I realized what a big step this is. I'm not going into this lightly. It's just..." Sirius stopped sliding the chair back and forth and looked me in the eye, explaining, "I've never felt this way before. _Never_. It's like I was missing something all my life and she's it. She makes me feel like I'm truly alive; the rest of my life was just existing. Do you understand?" Both Lily and I nodded. I think that Lily and I feel the same way about each other. "It's just a feeling I can't explain. I just _know_ that what I'm feeling is real. I just _know_ that this is what I want to do. I just want to stay with her forever."

"A bit corny but heartfelt," Lily commented.

"Yeah, but I can't explain myself any better," Sirius admitted. 

"If you truly love her and you are ready for the commitment involved," I replied, "then I think you should do it."

"As soon as James gets better, we'll go help you pick out a ring, won't we, James?" Lily suggested. I nodded and she laughed, "I'm so happy for you, Sirius!" She made to rise in order to hug but she was stuck on the bed. The bulge on her stomach made it difficult for her to easily rise up to a standing position. "Help me!"

Sirius just started laughing.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Look at your clock. What time is it? Is it very late? How long have you been reading this? Since we are halfway through, take this time to get up and stretch or go to bed and sleep and come back tomorrow. On to my comments. See? I made him become Ron! That is why Ron is called Ron! Yes, I support the theory that Ron is a Seer, so hex me. The letter was very hard to write actually, which is odd because angst is usually my thing. Well, I had to be meaningful so I guess that's where the difficulty comes in. Oh, the poem called "Disease" is really the song "Disease" by Matchbox 20. The song explains Virginia's situation so well. Go download it if you can! This chapter was really short! I'm surprised at myself. Please review my fic! I like to know who's reading! Hit the review button or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com. Please, please, please include your e-mail address so I can write back! See ya later!


	16. Whistle Blower

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Sixteen: Whistle Blower

"Will you marry me?"

"No."

"No? Why not?"

"It's icky," Lily said finally. "The shape is all wrong."

In mid June, we finally found a free moment to go help Sirius buy a ring. For the past hour, Sirius had raided the entire ring display, getting down on bended knee to "propose" to Lily each time, to see how the ring would look in action. Oh, did I say past hour? Let me clarify, the past hour in that particular store. We first went to magical stores but both Lily and Sirius agreed that either the designs were lacking that special something or at the very least, the threat of magical consequences was very clear. Seeing that we had to be in Muggle London anyway, we moved to the jeweler stores within the Muggle world. 

Once we entered the store, Sirius realized that he couldn't tell if the rings looked good from just seeing them in the case so he asked if he could remove them. As he was holding each one, he noticed that it was impossible to see how it would look from a receiver's perspective. Furthermore, he wasn't a woman so he had no idea what a woman would want in a ring. So, Lily played Marguerite as he "proposed" with every single one. The saleswoman looked like she wanted to smash Sirius' and Lily's heads in. Frankly, I was close to wanting that myself. 

"Let's try this one," Sirius sighed.

As soon as he picked one up, Lily grimaced. "No. Put that back. You're not giving that!"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Where are the diamonds on that thing?"

"Right here," Sirius explained, pointing to the line of embedded small diamonds in the gold finish.

"They're _tiny_, Sirius. I know I said not to have huge diamonds but don't give her something that small."

"They're very high quality," the saleswoman chirped nervously. 

"Try the next one," Lily ordered.

Sirius selected another ring that had a diamond larger than the previous ring's diamonds. He got down on his knee, opened the box again and asked, "Will you marry me?"

Lily cocked her head and twisted her mouth in concentration. "I like it."

"Really?"

"It catches the light well. And it's not too big."

Sirius turned the ring back towards himself. "I like it too."

My jaw dropped. "You two have made a decision? Thank goodness." Suddenly, a thought came to me. "Hey, Sirius, how are you going to pay for this?"

"My inheritance."

"You never use your inheritance. Like, ever."

"I use it in emergencies."

"Sirius," I said frankly, "you've have lost your job many times, one time for a full month, you've nearly starved at points, and you've barely made rent at least twice since you got that flat. Those weren't emergencies?"

"No."

"Then tell me what is."

"Well, this situation for example. And also, suppose that you have this kid and he or she becomes a fantastic Seeker. During one dark stormy night, the wind is howling fiercely, and somehow his or her broom goes flying away into the Whomping Willow. For some unforeseen reason, you can not get him or her another one. Therefore, I would have to. That's an emergency."

"Do you realize how stupid that sounds? Rent is not an emergency but our child's broom is?" Lily demanded.

"Well, if our kid's a Seeker, a high quality broom is important since their entire role is dependent upon their speed," I explained. "Besides, if you said yourself that raising a kid is more than base necessities. A broom would provide happiness."

"Buy the ring so I don't have to listen to another Quidditch lecture," Lily moaned, putting her face in her hands.

Sirius got up from the ground, patted himself off, and added, "Actually, the situation can apply to anyone's future kid: yours, Remus', Peter's, mine. Just a little back up for a dark stormy rainy day."

"Buy the ring, Sirius," Lily said, exasperated. "We still have to go get a congratulations card for my sister and I want to make that as quick as possible."

Sirius nearly fell down laughing as he went to the counter as I snickered. 

*** ***

Early that week, we had received a strange post. It was slid through our rarely-to-never-used post slot. Lily was upstairs, still getting dressed, when the strange envelope arrived. Sirius and I looked at each other, trying to see if the other knew what it could be. I went to fetch it from the floor. 

It was a simple Muggle envelope with a postage stamp on it, our home address neatly in pen. Not bothering to glance at the return address, I shook it. It didn't make any suspicious sounds and I hadn't heard about cursed envelopes yet so I assumed it was safe. Shrugging, I opened the envelope and looked inside. There was a photo.

The photo was obviously Muggle and therefore the subject didn't move. It appeared to be... a beach ball with a bonnet on it. "Sirius? What does this look like?" I showed him the picture. 

"A red and white beach ball. Who would send a picture of a beach ball?"

"Must be some Muggle thing."

"The ball's kind of deflated though. See? It's all wrinkled."

"What's all wrinkled?' Lily asked, gingerly making the trip down the stairs. "I can't take much more of this."

"Two more months, that's it. We're getting close," I answered softly.

"It keeps kicking and squirming! There's no more room!"

Cutting her daily rant short, I replied, "Anyway, we got a picture of a beach ball."

"A beach ball?"

"A deflated one," Sirius answered as Lily finally reached the floor we were on. Waddling over, she took the picture from my hands. She looked at the picture, flipped it over, and said in a bored tone, "Congratulations, James, you're an uncle."

"An uncle? Of who?"

"It's Petunia's baby."

"_That_ thing? That's not what babies look like, do they?"

"It looks like a laughing Buddha statue I saw once in an import store," Sirius commented as he did an impression of the statue, "with a bonnet on its head."

"What's his name, then?" I asked.

"Dudley Dursley."

Sirius and I roared with laughter. I fell down and Sirius beat his fist against the table. Lily giggled slightly, whether at us or the name, I couldn't tell, as she prepared some food for herself. It took us ten solid minutes to calm down. Throughout the week, we would just look at each other in moments of silence and one of us would mutter, "Dudley" and we'd just crack up again. 

*** ***

Anyway, we were obligated to purchase a card for the couple since Lily felt that her mother was hinting that she should through the picture. 

Once Sirius had purchased his ring (after spending forever and a day picking out a box for it), we headed to the card store. It was fairly large with lots of rows and people milling about. 

"Are you going to buy flowers?" Lily asked.

Sirius shook his head. "I want to buy Coleur-du-Soleil flowers. They're her favorite."

"Oh, the kind that change colour every hour?" I asked. Sirius nodded. 

"Those are pretty," Lily agreed. Sighing, "So, James, funny card or serious?"

"Don't they hate fun and happy things?"

"Most fun and happy things. So, not funny, then?"

"Hm... but those are like, 'We're so happy and your child brings you joy' and blah, blah, blah. I'm not happy. I don't really care whether or not their son brings them joy."

"It's not like I want to buy them a card but we have to look like we care."

"They won't send us a card."

"If we do," Lily explained, "they will, because 'that's what is done'. They don't want to lose face."

"Like their wedding present which was a single teacup?"

"And my mother was upset about that." Lily gritted her teeth. "But, of course, she let it slide because they 'were barely getting by'. My butt! They weren't struggling by any means."

"Are we going to buy this card?" Sirius asked. 

"Yes, we are. A sappy card will have to do," Lily concluded. 

Before we could begin finding the row of congratulations card, a young girl's voice asked, "Excuse me, why are you fat?"

We turned to face the speaker. The voice belonged to a young girl, about eight years old, with long black hair and green eyes. Her hair was held back by a purple bow which matched her purple tee-shirt and the flowers on her denim shorts. 

Lily pointed to herself. "Me?" The girl nodded. "Well," Lily answered slightly startled, "I'm pregnant."

"Does that mean you're going to have a baby?"

"Yes."

"Who's the daddy?"

Lily pointed at me. "Him. This is my husband."

"Oh. I used to have a mummy but I don't anymore."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I don't remember her. She died when I was born. My daddy said that when I was born, there was too much love in the world so one of us had to go."

We didn't really know how to respond to that. "Um... I'm glad you stayed," Lily answered finally.

"She was very young and..."

"Alyssa! Where are you?" 

"Right here, Daddy!"

A man turned the corner and came to dead stop when he saw us. Our jaws dropped. It was Oliver Whetstone.

*** ***

Oliver Whetstone was a Slytherin. Not only was he in Slytherin, he was best friends with Severus Snape. The pair of them were obsessed with fighting us, the Marauders. Snape was more concerned with Sirius and I but Whetstone hated Remus and Peter.

We could never figure out completely what Whetstone had against Peter, but the reason for his hatred of Remus was clear. In every year, there is one student that is the best in a certain subject. Every subject has its star student. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Remus was that star student of our year. However, Whetstone received the exact same marks as Remus but he wasn't considered the top student.

This drove Whetstone crazy and his ambition, which placed him in Slytherin, just made it worse. He was determined to best Remus in the class. It never happened but it created a destructive rivalry. So, the two Slytherins waged an all-out war against the four of us. For those odds, looking back I must say, they held up a good fight. 

Whetstone was not like the other Slytherins. For example, he was Muggle-born. The last Muggle-born in Slytherin had been one year below my father's year, a boy named Tom Riddle. Second, he loved a Gryffindor. 

Not just any Gryffindor. Oh no, that's too easy. He loved Lily. He loved Lily like I loved Lily. Apparently, he had been trying and failing to drum up the courage to tell her so but he never could. That is, until he convinced Snape to make him the highly advanced War Courage Potion. Making such a potion outside of class is illegal but he managed to pull it off.

We didn't even know this was going on. One day, in fifth year, shortly after Lily and I had begun dating, the post arrived. Lily received a red envelope: a Howler. We pondered over this weird situation. Who would send Lily a Howler?

Snape, in an amazing show of speed, dashed over to our House table. Laughing nervously, he claimed that the Howler was blank. It was a practical joke to see how the Perfect Lily Evans would react to receiving a Howler. But once he said that, our curiosity overtook us. What would happen if you mailed a Howler while it was blank? After fighting back and forth over whether or not to open it, Sirius took the task upon himself and ripped it open.

It wasn't blank. Whetstone had taken the potion in the wee hours of the morning, composed a sonnet, and recorded it in a previously purchased Howler, making sure it would be sent to Lily that day. He had not realized that Lily was already dating me. So, the Great Hall was filled with his voice booming this confession of love. Then there was silence. Sirius appeared to have a seizure of sorts before falling on to the ground and laughing until tears ran down his face. Soon, snickers overtook the Hall until the entire population was squealing with amusement. Whetstone, however, bolted out of his seat to be violently sick. Turns out that one of the side effects of the Potion is severe nausea to vomiting, so he spent the next week in the infirmary and Snape spent that same week in detention. 

After Whetstone and Snape became the laughing stock of the entire school, they isolated themselves. As far I am aware, Lily did sort the whole thing out with Whetstone but what was actually discussed is only known to the two of them. I doubt even Snape knew or cared, since Snape hated Lily as well.

Before the Whomping Willow prank, during the Christmas season in sixth year, the town hall in Hogsmeade held its annual ball, which students in fourth year and above could attend. All of my friends paired off as I went with Lily. The rest of the school that could attend showed up, including Snape and Whetstone. Snape was escorting Helen Malfoy, Lucius' younger sister, while Whetstone was escorting someone we had never seen before. 

It turned out that the girl was a Muggle whom Whetstone had become romantically involved with during the past summer. Her name was Kate and she lived in the same town as Whetstone. When they arrived, the whole group of my friends and I were chatting away when the girl ran up and grabbed Lily.

"Thank you!" she said.

"For what?" Lily demanded warily. 

"For not liking Oliver!" she replied, pointing out Whetstone who was rushing over to stop her. "My name's Kate!"

"Hello, Kate," Lily replied nervously, "what school do you go to?"

"Oh no! I'm not a witch like you!" she replied, smiling, "I'm a Snuggle! Or is it Buttle? Shuttle? Nudgle?"

"Muggle?" I suggested.

"Yeah, that's it! Your headmaster let me come to improve some sort of relations. You have a nice town!" 

"Thanks," Lily responded. "But why are you thanking me?"

"Oh!" Kate's eyes lit up as she explained excitedly, "Well, he was awfully hurt after he realized that you were already dating someone and I had just been turned down by some bloke at the school in my town, it's not important who he is, and we happened to be moping around the same place and we got to talking! See, if you hadn't turned him down and the jerk hadn't turned me down then we wouldn't have ever met! I believe that every event has a purpose, that every bad thing is leading up to a good thing, you know? Fate and everything."

Lily looked all around at us for a suggestion on how to handle this but Kate noticed me and said, "Oh, are you James Potter?"

Before I could receive a thank-you, Whetstone had managed to finally get over to her and gently lead her away. As he did so, she bombarded him with questions about who everyone was and what everything was for and how it got there. It was amazing how little she needed to breathe.

Later on in the year, after the Whomping Willow incident, we found out the rest of what happened that night because the information about Kate soon exploded: she was pregnant. It didn't take a genius to put together who the father could be and the Slytherins practically hanged him in the Astronomy Tower for disgracing the house like that. I didn't blame them, it was pretty embarrassing. 

We found out, through the wonderful rumor mill, that Whetstone planned to finish his schooling and once he left seventh year, marry Kate and raise their child. The plan didn't work out because Kate died soon after their little daughter was born. Whetstone did not come to Hogwarts for his seventh year and only returned to Hogwarts for one day to take the N.E.W.T.s but he left the building as soon as he finished the tests. No one had heard of him since. Most assumed he had simply gone back to a Muggle life.

*** ***

This appeared to be the case. He looked older but it was clear it was same Oliver Whetstone from the Hogwarts days. This meant that the little girl was the daughter of Whetstone and the Muggle Kate. The girl took after her father with his black hair and thin bone structure but I bet someone closer to Kate would have seen similarities between her and her mother but since we had only met once, I really couldn't say. 

"Daddy," Alyssa said, stepping over to her father, "this lady is having a baby."

"Whetstone?' Lily stammered.

"Do you know my daddy?" Alyssa asked. 

"You can say that," I replied.

"Potter," Whetstone remarked, obviously not believing his eyes. "And Black." Whetstone was obviously searching for Peter and Remus and slightly disappointed that they were missing. 

"Long time no see," Sirius responded. "You look well."

Actually, that wasn't quite true. He had an unhealthy air about him, like he was either developing an illness or just recovering from a severe malady. "And you," Whetstone replied.

"Wow! Everyone knows my daddy!" Alyssa exclaimed. 

"Alyssa, why don't you pick out a card for your grandmother, okay?" Whetstone suggested.

"Hey, Sirius," I added, "go help her."

"Why should…?" Sirius balked.

"Because you're a sweet and considerate man who helps children." 

"Alright," Sirius answered, "come on, do you know where the cards are?"

"Yup! Right over here!" Alyssa practically ran to another aisle as Sirius walked behind her. This left Lily and I alone with Whetstone. 

"So, I assume you're married now, am I right?" Whetstone asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"Is it your first?"

"Yes, it's our first."

"First in seven years?" Whetstone remarked.

"First in six. We waited a year."

"Ah, makes sense. What do you two do now?"

"Um… Lily works in Muggle Affairs and I work in the Improper Use of Magic at the Ministry. How about you?"

"I'm a teacher. I teach English to secondary school students." He added softly, "Muggles, of course."

"So, you returned to Muggle life, then?" Lily asked.

He nodded. "Even though technically I'm a qualified wizard, no one would take me seriously so I just went back to my roots. Easier that way."

"Alyssa's about eight now, isn't she?" Lily remarked.

"She is."

"I bet she's starting to get excited about Hogwarts then. Lucky her, because she'll already…"

"She doesn't know."

I was stunned. "She doesn't know? Haven't you told her?" I demanded.

"I did when she was younger. It caused serious problems." He sighed, "Have you ever heard of the book _The Witches_?"

I shook my head but Lily answered, "It's a Muggle book. It's really inaccurate."

"Right. Well, when she was younger, the teacher was reading it to the class and she kept saying how the book was wrong. How that isn't how witches and wizards act. It got out of hand. The school finally had to call me and explain that my child was 'having difficulty separating fantasy from reality' and the Ministry had received wind of it and told me to either remove her from Muggle life or not tell her until she could keep her mouth shut. So, what could I do? I told I made it up as a game."

"What will you do when she gets her letter?"

"Explain it to her. I had no choice. I probably could explain it now but I'm worried that if she doesn't get her letter, she'll be crushed." 

"I don't think it's very fair even so..." I answered.

"Don't tell me how to raise my own kid," Whetstone snapped. 

"So, anyway," Lily said nervously, "how's Snape?"

"I wouldn't know," Whetstone answered coldly, "I haven't spoken to him in seven years."

"Oh. Sorry."

"How're Pettigrew and Lupin?"

"They're well."

"Oh."

"Daddy!" Alyssa came running over with a card in her hand as Sirius followed behind, a card in his hand. "Is this good?" She handed the card to her father who read the outside, opened it and chuckled as he read the inside. "Is it funny?"

"It is. We'll get this one," Whetstone answered.

"I got this card," Sirius explained, handing us his card, "It was the least sappy one in the place." Lily and I glanced at the card and shrugged our shoulders. 

"Good enough," Lily replied. "Let's get it and go home."

The two groups went up to the cash register and queued up, with Whetstone and his daughter in front of us. Alyssa continued to chat idly with her father and the three of us without realizing the hatred that existed between us and her father. Once we had all paid for our purchases and were heading towards the exit, Whetstone waited by the door as his daughter entered the pathway. Lily and Sirius left first and as I passed Whetstone, he grabbed his sleeve, and whispered urgently in my ear, "There's a viper in your nest. Get rid of it before it gets rid of you." With that, he pushed me away and went to follow his daughter. 

My mouth gaped open like a land-bound fish. What was _that_ for? What could he mean? Was he just having fun with me? I wouldn't put it past him. "Are you coming, James?" Lily demanded outside the shop. Regaining my dignity, I followed her and Sirius outside. We began walking to the bus stop when Sirius asked what Whetstone had stopped me for. I explained what he had said and the pair of them gave me funny looks.

"Wait," Sirius joked, "he forgot a bit. The whole deal with the moons and planets aligning and a lightning bolt striking you. As chickens sacrifice a human on a chicken coop altar."

"That is the vaguest thing I've ever heard," Lily exclaimed. "I thought you boys were old enough not to play little pranks on each other."

"It sounds like the Divination test in our last year," Sirius added " 'Interpret this prediction.' 'Uh, don't walk around barefoot'?" I snorted. "Come on, James, you've always known he was kind of 'not all there'. I _still_ say he faked that whole thing in Divination class third year."

Back in third year, Whetstone was in Divination along with the Slytherins. When we had Potions class one day, the Slytherins came into class without Whetstone, a few looking a bit shaken. When the Potions master asked where Whetstone had got to, one student explained that in Divination class, they had started crystal ball reading. Everyone was staring into their crystal balls when Whetstone seized up, transfixed on his crystal ball. He cried in horror as a scene only known to him played out. After awhile, the ball rose up and Whetstone quickly brought up his arm and turned his head to shield his eyes before the ball flashed green and exploded. Whetstone was then allowed to quit Divination and switch to Ancient Runes. He never told anyone what he had seen.

"What do vipers mean again? I never took the class," I joked.

" 'Vipers are the sorest of all objects to find,'" Sirius chanted in a breathy voice, waving his hands around, " 'But they're everywhere, hope you don't mind.'"

"Well, let's think," Lily remarked in an amused voice, "Vipers are like snakes and snakes are phallic symbols. And then we have nests, which could mean motherhood or more specifically, a womb."

"So, the great and mighty prophet Whetstone predicts you guys having a boy!" Sirius proclaimed. 

"And his name will be Oedipus!" I added, laughing. 

"Ew! James! I would like my son not to gouge out his eyes, thanks." 

Sirius doubled over with laughter. "When he's got a complex, he's not fooling around!" I snorted and shook with laughter. 

"Oh my God!" Lily shouted. Before we could ask what she meant, she was already sprinting down the street. There was construction in Muggle London that day and one of the construction machines seemed to be having problems. It was holding up a long, metal beam, which shook in the air as the vehicle shuddered. 

In the middle of street, Whetstone was on his knees, coughing violently. His daughter was standing below the beam, demanding if her father was alright. As I watched and Lily ran, a man in black Wizarding robes, dashed by Whetstone's daughter, knocking her down. At that moment, the beam disconnected. Onlookers screamed as Alyssa looked up at her doom, immobile in fear.

Sirius and I began sprinting after Lily, getting our wands out. We'd all have to pay massive fines for this violation of Magical Law but we had no choice. But something amazing happened. It was like a sharp shiver of the air and the beam began to slow down. The source was Alyssa but the beam wasn't slowing down enough and Alyssa began to scream. As the beam was feet above her head, Lily ran up to her. Lily scooped her up and darted out of the beam's shadow. The beam crashed into the street just as Lily with Alyssa leapt just a few feet away.

People screamed louder as the dust rose higher and then fell. Construction workers in hard hats came running over to see what damage they had caused. "The controls got stuck!" One construction worker protested as the group ran. "I couldn't move the damned things!" 

Sirius and I ran over to Lily and Alyssa. To my great relief, Lily and Alyssa were alive but Alyssa was crying for her father and Lily looked a little shell-shocked. "Are you okay, Lily?" I asked, getting on my knees to be closer to her. 

"Yeah. Just had a beam nearly crush me to death, I'm grand," Lily stammered. "Baby's kicking."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, "The baby! We have to get you to St. Mungo's now!"

"Alyssa!" Whetstone shouted hoarsely. "My God! Alyssa, ANSWER ME!"

"D-d-d-daddy!" Alyssa sobbed in reply. She was clearly shaking. 

"She's over here," Sirius called. Whetstone stumbled around the beam and nearly tripped to his knees in his effort to make the distance in the least amount of time. Alyssa let out another tearful wail as the workers came over. 

"Is she okay?" One of the workers asked.

Whetstone turned on them. "No, of _course_ not! She nearly got smashed by your stupid bit of scrap metal! I can't believe I pay _taxes_ for you people's salaries!" Whetstone started coughing again so the next part of his rant was lost in gasps and wheezes. Drops of bloods leaked from his hand. I suddenly realized how sick he looked. 

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned. "Maybe you should go to hos..."

"I'm fine," Whetstone hissed. "It's Alyssa I'm worried about. Are you okay?"

"This lady helped me," Alyssa moaned, pointing at Lily, who was beginning to sit up. Whetstone's eyes went wide in fear. "Oh no," he moaned. "Oh no, oh no, oh no." 

"Sir," the leader, I assume, of the workers said in a comforting tone, "we called the hospital. Just to make sure."

"We better head to a doctor, Lily," I told Lily soothingly. "You don't feel anything wrong, do you?"

"No. It's just kicking like normal."

"I don't want to risk it. Can you walk?"

"Look, we called so you just stay put," the worker said quickly, "we can't afford you getting hurt."

"We want to go to our own doctor," I said firmly. "Thank you for the offer." 

"Well, if you insist, but the standard hospital is just fine..."

"No. I'm sure. Thank you."

Lily put her hand on Alyssa's shoulder but Whetstone dragged her sharply away. "Don't touch her!" He rasped. 

"Hey," I snapped, "my wife isn't actually in the best shape to go around saving people. Show her some respect!"

"Look. You've done enough. Let me be."

"What is the matter with you?! My wife could've _died_! My _baby_ could've _died_!"

"Let's go, James," Lily requested softly. "I want to go home." 

The sirens of the ambulance could now be heard over the din of London. I gave Whetstone one hard look as I quickly led Lily back to Wizarding London. 

*** ***

The doctor said that Lily was fine and the baby was unaffected by the current events. After we could all breathe easier, we returned home where I made Lily lie down just to avoid her straining herself. 

Sirius called Marguerite to go to dinner with him and she accepted. Sirius then made reservations at the most expensive restaurant he could think of, the "Ivory Palace". I was amazed on how money was really not an object in this situation. Before long, it was time for Sirius to leave. For the first time since he had decided to ask to marry Marguerite, he seemed truly nervous. He could barely tie his necktie. Lily had to help him. I could hardly hear it but Sirius muttered, "Clarissa used to tie my ties." He sighed heavily, "She would have liked Marguerite, don't you think?"

"I think so," Lily answered as I nodded. 

"Marguerite would've like Clarissa too. I wish she could be here." Taking a deep breath, he said firmly, "No point complaining now. I have to go pick her up."

"Good luck!" I cheered. 

"I'm sure she'll say 'yes'!" Lily added happily. Sirius gave us a sort of weak, sick smile. I knew what was going through his mind: "I'm not." You never are. Women can say no, after all. There's that flutter of panic right before you set up the scene for the question and then there's the worst moment of fear, the moment as long as a breath, which is between the end of the "big" question and when she answers. It's like the performers in a stage show after the big number when they pose awkwardly, waiting for the thunder of applause. Because the applause may never come and the air might fall dead. She might very well say "no". And what is the line after _that_ cue?

Sirius took another steadying breath and Apparated. 

*** ***

"James! James, help me! I don't want to die!"

Lily's screams bolted me awake, ready to strike the attacker but there was no one in the room. Lily was thrashing in the bed. I held her arm and called her. After a second, her eyes flew open and she looked madly about her.

"It's alright. No one's going to hurt you." I laid back down in the bed, ready to go back to sleep now that Lily was awake. 

"Oh, James!" Lily cried as she wrapped her arms around me. "I dreamt I had the baby... and, this man came in and... said, 'The quota's filled. One of you's gotta go.' I couldn't let the baby die and I didn't want to die... and I didn't say anything, so... the man... just picked me randomly... and they took the baby away... and you were gone... and... and..." Lily began crying harder.

"Shh... it's okay. No one's going to take you or our baby, it's alright."

"I don't want to die..."

"You won't die. Everything's okay. It was just a dream."

"But what if... remember that Muggle girl that Whetstone dated? She _died_ giving birth! Don't you see? That could be me! I could die! I don't want to die!" Lily wailed. 

"This is different. Calm down, you're going to do fine."

"I'm scared," Lily whimpered. 

I held her close and rubbed her hair. "It's okay. But nothing will happen. You know the drill. We've talked it over with Sirius, he knows what he needs to do. Everything will be fine. And our baby will be beautiful and everything will be perfect. Just close your eyes. Just relax. Go to sleep."

*** ***

The crowd roared.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Yikes, my life stinks! I have a huge Girl Scout project (yes, I'm in Girls Scouts. A Senior Girl Scout, I might add) that I have to do and a huge research paper on W.S. Merwin, an American poet. Cool poet but I hate having to write a paper about him. That, and the rest of my homework for other classes. But I'm doing this instead. Tells you where my priorities are. Wow, I didn't kill anyone in this chapter, I'm impressed. By the way, if you can't believe that Lily could run down the street and save Alyssa, the mother of a friend of mine (who's a twin and a big twin at that) saved her older son from a river while she was pregnant with my friend and her twin brother, who were pretty big for twins (I think they were seven pounds each ). Adrenaline is a powerful thing. About that stage performer simile, if you've ever watched a stage musical, at the end of songs, the cast gets into these really weird poses for sometimes no reason. I was thinking about that. Now, imagine Sirius singing "All That Jazz". Okay, that's just weird. I'll stop. Oh, the flowers Coleur-du-Soleil are not real, I made them up. It's French for "color of the sun". I can't think of anything witty to say. Terribly sorry. I want reviews! No one loves me! WAAAA!!! Please review!!! Push the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com and leave your e-mail address so I can write you back!!!


	17. Love Lives

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Seventeen: Love Lives

"Where are you going?"

"It's not important! For the last time, it couldn't interest you less."

"But now I want to know _more_."

It was July thirtieth. Remus had bargained a brief holiday from his employer so he could visit his family and us again. Lily and Sirius teasingly asked after my health every few hours, since I had missed most of his visit last time. We arranged for an early dinner, since Remus had relatives to visit later in the evening and Peter had "things to do".

It was at the beginning of the visit that Sirius inquired on this mysterious requirement. When Peter continually refused to answer his questions, Sirius finally suggested, "Is it the violist or what?"

"No, it isn't her!" Peter huffed, "I have errands to run. Boring, tedious tasks. Merlin, why are you so fascinated?"

"Well, you were being so mysterious," Sirius whined, "You perked my curiosity."

"Well, it killed the cat and its next prey is the dog, huh?" Remus joked. 

"Who's the violist?" I wondered. 

"Oh," Peter made a nervous, dismissing gesture, "a customer at the shop."

"A very important customer," Remus added gleefully. 

"And very pretty, too," Sirius commented in sing-song. 

"No one told me this!" I protested. "Who is she?"

"Go on, Peter, tell James about the viola player," Remus ordered. "He missed it the first time."

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Peter propped his elbows on to the table we were all sitting at and began his tale, "It started—oh—five months ago? Every second week, this woman, a viola player, comes into the shop. Starting this month, she has started coming in every week..."

"What's her name?" Sirius suggested slyly.

Rolling his eyes, Peter answered, "Her name is Blithe Tambre."

Where have I heard that name before? I wondered to myself. 

"And what does she look like?" Remus responded.

"You already know the story, why don't you two just tell it?" Peter asked.

"You tell it better," Remus answered. "Go on. We'll stop interrupting."

Regaining his composure, Peter went on, "She's short, shorter than me even. She's got curly black hair to her chin and hazel eyes, I think. She doesn't look up much so I can't really say for sure. She's very pale, like those porcelain dolls, you know those really expensive ones that ..."

"Okay, he understands, Peter," Remus interrupted, "Let's move on."

"Tell the good parts already," Sirius demanded. 

"What good parts? It's not that exciting," Peter replied.

"That's because you don't anything about it," Remus answered, "if you just said something, then something interesting might occur."

"Am I ever going to hear this story?" I whined. "What about this woman?"

Remus and Sirius put up their hands to show that they were done talking as Peter glared at them and continued, "Anyway, this woman," Exasperated, he added, "Who is very pretty before the two of you interrupt again, plays the viola. So, this woman comes into the shop one day during my shift during the slow hour, saying that her viola is broken. I take the viola and no matter how hard I look, there's nothing wrong with it. So, I ask her to tell me what exactly is the matter but she just says that 'it sounds wrong' and nothing else. While I try to find the source of the problem, she looks through the score books. Like, really examining them, opening them up, reading a few pieces, putting them back, picking them up again. This lasts for an hour. Finally, I tell her I have no idea what to do with her viola since there is nothing wrong. She shrugs and says that she wants to buy a book. She buys the book and leaves. Two weeks later, during my shift during the slow hour, she comes back. Her viola doesn't sound right and wants me to look at it again. But there's nothing wrong with it and she spends the next hour looking through the books again. I tell her nothing's wrong, she shrugs and buys a book. Next two weeks, same routine. Next two weeks, same thing. Beginning of the month, she comes in but I'm not there that day. She walks right out without buying anything or asking about her viola getting repaired, even though she had it with her."

"You're kidding," I said.

"I'm not. George, the guy who was doing my shift that day, asked me if I ever caught up with Blithe Tambre and I said no. He told me what she did. After that, she's been coming in every week"

"So, you're being stalked, Peter, is that it?" I suggested.

"I don't know. At least she hasn't broken into my flat or something, that would be creepy," Peter joked.

"But what does Peter do," Remus commented, "when a very pretty girl comes in every week to see him and him exclusively? Not ask her out, no. Oh, no, no, no. He tells her there's nothing wrong with her viola and tells her that the book she has purchased is a very good one." Sirius laughed. 

"Well, what am I supposed to say to her?" Peter asked. "What if she's just a freak who prefers me to work on her viola?"

"Well," Sirius snickered, "she wants certainly wants you to work on _something_ of hers." Lily, who had been quietly observing our conversation, kicked Sirius sharply to which Sirius yelped in pain. 

Remus squealed in a very feminine voice, "Oh, Peter, work on my viola! And while you're on that, you can work on..." Lily dealt another blow to Remus' leg to which screamed, "Ow! That hurt!"

"The baby can hear you. You're contaminating its innocent mind," Lily answered sharply. 

"Forget the baby, what about us?" Peter answered. "Great, now when I see her, I'll be thinking of you two chortling away."

Sirius emerged from under the table where he had been nursing his leg and said, "Look, can you blame us? Why don't you just ask the violist out somewhere for drinks?"

"She obviously interested, coming into the shop all the time," Remus added after he had emerged from examining his leg. 

"I don't know..." Peter moaned.

"Come on, Peter," Sirius said, "you'll never know if you don't ask. Personally, she couldn't be more obvious than she was wearing a sign reading: 'I want to go have drinks with you'."

"I agree. She wants to get to know you. Right, Lily?" Remus asked sagely.

Lily nodded. "She seems to want your attention. She just doesn't know how to actually talk to you."

"Just at least have a conversation of her that does not involve her viola or her books," I suggested.

Peter sighed, "Alright. Are we all done tormenting me?" Remus and Sirius nodded. "Good. Say, Remus, since we're talking about love lives, how's Hilda?"

Remus turned slightly red and stuttered, "Fine. Just fine."

"Who's Hilda?" I asked. Sirius started snickering.

Peter smiled and told Remus, "James asked who Hilda was, Remus."

"Her name is Hilda Markku. She works with me," Remus explained, shrugging nervously. "Anyway, so when's the take-away...?"

"I think James needs to know more than that," Sirius interrupted. 

"Well, she works with me. And she does a very fine job at what she does."

"Remus, try descriptive words," Peter suggested, "that might help."

"Well, she's blonde. Her hair is very long, but she always ties it into a plait in the back. She's Norwegian, obviously. She speaks English very well, went to Beauxbatons and did well in Defense, obviously since that's part of her job. And, um..."

"Is she pretty?" I asked. 

"Yes, I guess so. She's in very good shape, very lean and she has a lot of strength. She's really... aggressive. Very matter of fact about everything. Independent sort of woman. I can't really think of anything else to say." Remus fiddled with his fork as Sirius and Peter looked at each other. 

"So," Peter began, "you don't live in the same boarding house as in April?"

"No, I'm still there."

"And Hilda is still in her boarding house next door?" Sirius asked.

"I got curtains!" Remus exclaimed suddenly. "They're very good. I like them a lot."

"When did you get the curtains, Remus?' Peter asked. 

"Last month."

"So, in June?"

"Yes."

"What's the big deal about curtains?" I asked.

"Because... actually, no, Remus, you should explain," Sirius suggested. Remus shook his head vigorously. "Fine. I'll tell."

"No, don't! It's not that important, really."

"I think it's funny. Well, Remus has a room in a boarding house, so does Hilda. Hilda's boarding house is next door and Remus' window faces her window. Neither of them has curtains. What problem does this cause?"

"Remus," Lily gasped, "you didn't..."

"I didn't know! I couldn't afford curtains until recently and I couldn't tell her why she needed curtains!" Remus protested.

"And let me guess," I answered, "he has an excellent view of her bedroom so he saw her undress once."

"Right in one," Peter cheered. "Of course, we have to tease him about it now. It's the law in... where do you live, Remus?"

"Bergen, Norway," Remus answered coldly. 

"And I bet _you_ haven't asked her out yet," Peter added pointedly. 

"She isn't as obviously interested in me as Bilthe is in you. She'd probably bash my head in if I even suggested anything remotely romantic."

"Ah, Remus," Sirius responded, "that's what wine's for!"

"I'm not getting her drunk so I can spend the night with her!"

"I didn't mean that. Get her drunk so she can't beat your head in and she'll forget about it in the morning!" Remus gave him a dark look and Sirius amended, "I'm kidding, Remus. I honestly doubt she'll beat your head in."

"You don't know her."

"What's wrong with you, Remus?" I said, "You're an okay sort of person. She might be intrigued."

"Yeah, but how about when she finds out what I am? She'll kill me in seconds."

"Come on, Remus," Peter moaned, "you don't have to say what you are on the first date! Once she gets to know you, she won't care. _We_ don't care, why should she care?"

"Delivery for Potter residence!" A voice from the fire called. "Your order is ready to be delivered."

"That's the take-away," I answered, getting up. I went to the fireplace where a young boy with a collection cup on his head was waiting. "Here's the money," I said as I placed the charge in the cup. The boy disappeared and within seconds, a long train of food exited the fireplace, which I retrieved and sent to the table in the kitchen. The food was met with cheers and praise as they picked out what they ordered and began eating. 

"So," Remus began, "how did you ask Marguerite?"

"Well, I took her to the restaurant, 'Ivory Palace', which was extremely expensive. We had dinner. Now, this place has musicians running around, playing requests. So, I thought that was a grand idea so I called the players over after asking what her favorite ballad is, which is 'Rose Lined Boulevards'. So, they played the song and she was all pleased. When they finished, I got down on my knees, brought out the ring, and asked her." He slapped his hand on the table, turned to Lily and said, "By the way, relay a message to the rest of the female population: don't sit there for ten minutes after someone asks them to marry him. Because you did that too and it's really awkward to be in that position for that long under that type of stress!"

"I apologize," Lily responded, picking at her food. "I was kind of shocked and I expect that she was too."

"It's alright, Lily," I said. 

*** ***

My proposal had been a lot more complex. The plan was for Remus to ask Lily out for a luncheon and the rest of us would "busy" so it would look like it wasn't staged. Remus' job was to keep Lily away from her flat as long as possible while Peter, Sirius, and I sneaked into her home and prepared. We scattered rose petals all over the place and fired up her Player with a gem with the cheerful love song 'Because I Only Want to Dance With You'. I hid in her bedroom, standing on her bed, which was buried in rose petals as Sirius hid in the bathroom to take a picture and hand her a bouquet when she came home. The signal would come from Peter, who remained in the front room to turn on the Player when she would enter her flat.

When she arrived with Remus, we were all in position. Beyond the closed door, I could hear Lily express surprise on Peter being there and then the music turned on. At the top of my lungs, I sang along as I danced around on the bed. Lily opened the door and exclaimed in surprise upon seeing me dancing around on her bed. Remus and Peter followed behind her as she just stared in shock to open the bathroom door. Sirius stepped out and handed her the bouquet, which she dropped in shock and confusion, as the song ended. 

"What's going on? It's not my birthday or anything!" Lily squeaked. "Where did all these rose petals come from?"

"Well," I replied, trying to sound calmer than I felt, "I wanted to say..." Remus gestured with his head that the rest should leave. They crept out behind Lily and closed the door behind them. "I wanted to say that I love you and I want to be with you forever. Lily, will you marry me?" Lily just brought her hands to mouth and stood there with her eyes wide. It was longest ten seconds in my entire life. Finally, tears leaked out from her eyes and whispered, "Yes." She climbed on to the bed and I hugged her as she kissed me. I got off balance and we crashed on to the bed. Someone pounded on the door and Sirius hollered, "We're still here! Don't start doing weird stuff in there!"

Lily laughed and I coughed. "Anyway, I need to give you the ring. It's right in my pocket." Or not. Perplexed, I tried to the other one. Nothing there. "That's funny. Did I land on it?" We sat up to search for the ring among the petals. "It was in the case. The box should be here." After a minute of searching, I called out, "Did I give any of you the ring?"

Sirius opened the door as all three looked inside. They all shook their heads and replied in the negative. Finally, I remembered exactly where it was. It was on my bedside table in my flat but I had been so nervous about that day that I completely forgot to actually retrieve it. Feeling extremely stupid, I apologized and Apparated to my home to get the ring for her as my three friends rolled their eyes in irritation. 

*** ***

Thankfully, Sirius remembered his ring and his proposal went just fine. 

"So, what exactly do you do? I never really got a good explanation," I suggested to Remus as I bit into a roll. 

"Dark Creature exterminator. The minor ones, of course. Werewolves, vampires, and the like are just handed over the Norwegian Beast Department when they get out of hand. On a side note, the Norwegian Werewolf Department is not bad. They have a sort of werewolf epidemic."

"Really?" I asked.

"Mostly in the mountains. Not enough werewolves were getting into properly built containment buildings. They've fixed that little problem. They assign you a special building. I share a room with five other men. About seven women share another room in the house. Three little kids share another room in the same house."

"A little cramped, huh?" Sirius commented.

"I really envy those kids. They have tons of room to pace around in. The men's room has to be the smallest and we're larger. Anyway, so that's what I do every month."

"What about your job, though? Does your boss know about you?" I asked.

"Yeah, he found it out by accident. I got a post from the Werewolf Department and it accidentally got sent to his house. He was good-natured about it, really surprised me. He had an older brother who was afflicted so he kind of turned a blind eye to me. I think he had already guessed anyway. My landlady knows but she doesn't care as long as I pay rent and I don't bite her or her family. But Hilda doesn't know, neither does Kovit Langer, Svein Thwaite, Gudrun Kaia, nor Sonja Toril." Remus bit into a piece of chicken and added, "Well, they haven't confronted me on it. They might have suspicions but it's Ulric Ingo, that's my boss, who decides whether I keep my job or not so it really doesn't matter. Oh, did I ever tell you about Boggarts? Or did I talk about the dementors?"

"No, you told about the dementors," Sirius answered. We all shuddered. Dementors like the cold and since half of Norway is tundra, they sometimes wander into the area where Remus lived. His Patronus has gotten very good and the area's sweet shops are making a killing because of the increased activity. His area has at least one dementor every couple of weeks.

"Alright. You all know about Boggarts, right? Well, a couple of months ago, my landlady's daughter, Gerd, who is one ugly woman, I don't care if she's engaged, starts screaming one morning. I rush downstairs to see what's happening and there's a huge cobra in her room. She starts getting hysterical and I go towards the cobra, which turns into a moon. Of course, it has to be a Boggart and I cast Riddikilus and it's gone. The next day, she finds another cobra that turns into another moon. Every day, there's at least one Boggart in the house. Every tenant knows everyone's deepest fears now, it's great," Remus commented sarcastically. "Finally, I tell Ulric that my boarding house is having a Boggart problem so the entire task force comes to the house and searches the entire building."

"Did you find where they were coming from?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, we did," Remus said with disgust, "next to the boiler was a Boggart nest."

"Ugh, that's gross," Sirius groaned, grimacing. Peter put down his fork, shaking his head. 

"You bet it was. It was stuck behind the boiler; that's why we couldn't find it before. It was in the hole in the wall. The boiler was hiding the hole. It was about three feet in diameter and it was all gooey and pulsing. It was grossest thing I had ever seen. There were hundreds of Boggart eggs. Hundreds. We had to slice the egg sac open."

"As much as this makes me want to throw up," Peter replied, "I have to know. Did Boggarts come out after you did that?"

"You bet they did. But they weren't developed yet so they were demented and warped. Many of my moons were melted and just fell to the floor. It was disgusting. You know how with the spell Boggarts just explode? Well, on these underdeveloped Boggarts, they exploded all right but the explosion splattered left over goo all over us." All of us groaned in disgust. "I know. There was this rancid smell and it was thick, sticky slop all over everything. But, in the end, the nest was gotten rid off and we all took long showers."

"Did Hilda...?" Sirius asked slyly.

"I can't see her shower, you idiot! And I was taking one at the same time so I would've been looking anyway!"

"All's the pity," Peter replied. 

"Say, Peter," Lily asked suddenly, "is your foot feeling better? Your mum told me you had something wrong with it."

"Oh yeah, I went to the doctor at St. Mungo's last week. I twisted it and I couldn't go the day I actually twisted it."

"What did you do?" Remus inquired.

"Oh, I forget now. Well, he fixed it up after I saw Marguerite..."

"You saw Marguerite?" Sirius wondered. "She doesn't work near that area, does she?"

Peter flushed. "Well, no. She said she saw me walk past and she wanted to have a little chat."

"About what?"

"Nothing. Random stuff. Probably just bored or something. Made the waiting time a bit shorter, though."

"That's not true!" Remus replied dramatically, "they're having a lurid affair!"

"Dun-dun-dah!" I sang. Everyone but Lily started to laugh. 

"Lily?" I asked, "are you alright?"

She shrugged. "I don't feel well. I'm sorry."

"Why don't you go lie down?" Remus suggested. "You've been out of it the whole time I've been here."

"When's your baby due anyway?" Peter wondered. 

"August fifth," Lily moaned, "but then babies are usually born before their due dates." 

"Go lie down, Lily," Sirius repeated. "I'll help you up." Sirius and I got up and hoisted Lily out of the chair.

"I'm so sorry, everyone," she mumbled, "I didn't mean to bring everyone down."

"It's okay," Remus answered, waving it off, "everyone's has to have an off day. I'll see you all week."

"Look, it's better than that time Remus was on that extreme pain medication," Peter added. The Werewolf Agency often enlists werewolves to help in research programs. Many of these include testing new drugs to help some symptoms or maybe cure the affliction. One such drug Remus had to take when we were all twenty years old was a pain medication for after the full moon. To test it fully, Remus suggested we'd do something he'd normally not be able to do. We decided to hang out at Peter's flat. Remus was zoned out for the entire visit and when we all headed home, Remus stopped at the top of the stairs, crying because he was so unstable and dizzy that if he tried to go down, he might fall. Peter ended up declaring that Remus couldn't be left alone in case he'd hurt himself and he spent the next three days at Peter's place as we all wrote very angry letters to the researchers about their stupid medication. As far as we know, other werewolves had the same side effects and it was considered a failure. "Just lie down for awhile, Lily." 

Lily heaved a sigh and Sirius and I led her upstairs to lie down on our bed. We returned downstairs and continued to grill Remus on Norway and his job until we heard Marguerite calling, "Hello? Anyone home? James? Lily? Sirius?"

I stepped over to the fireplace and greeted her, "Hello, Marguerite."

"Is Sirius there? Can I talk to him?"

"Sure." Nodding, I indicated Marguerite's head in the fire and he walked over to speak with her. 

"Hi, Marguerite."

"Hey, Sirius. I need to know if you're busy tonight."

"Don't think so. Why?"

"I need to talk to you. I have something to tell you and we need to discuss it,' she replied seriously with shifty eyes. "Can you come?"

"Well, why don't you just tell me now?"

"Oh, no. This is a sort of 'sit down and have a long discussion' thing. I can't really do it like this." She looked a cross between being nervous and being frightened. 

"Are you okay?" Sirius demanded. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, it's not a problem, it could be very good, it really depends on... Oh, never mind. Just can you come or what?"

"It can be good or bad?" Sirius repeated. "What does that mean?"

"Sirius!" Marguerite exclaimed. "I don't want to discuss it now. Don't worry, it's not like I'm calling off the engagement or moving to Tibet or something like that. It's something we'll need to work our wedding around, that's all. Can you hold your curiosity off with that piece of information?"

"I guess I can." He turned to me and said in a little kid voice, "Daddy, can I go play?"

"I don't know," I answered in a deep voice, "have you finished all your vegetables?"

"Yes."

"Well, we'll have to ask your mother." I turned to Remus, "Mother, can Sirius go and play?"

With an affected woman's voice, he answered, "Will he be home for his bed time?"

"I'll be home for bedtime!" Sirius answered. 

"And a bedtime story too!" Marguerite added with a little kid voice of her own. We all started laughing. 

"Yeah," I replied in my usual voice, "go. I'll be here so Lily'll be okay."

"Great," Sirius said in his normal tone, "How's nine o'clock sound?"

"Fine. I'll be here. See you then!" There was a whoosh and she was gone. Sirius headed back to the table, muttering, "If it's something about dress robes or who to invite, I'm going to be upset."

"Welcome to married life, Sirius," I responded. 

"I'm not even married yet."

"Oh, don't listen to James," Remus commented, "he was henpecked long before he was married."

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "Watch it! Do you want me to bring up Narcissa?"

"Yuck, no. And how many times do I have to tell you, I know that it was bad relationship to get into. Why do you keep reminding me?" Remus moaned.

"Because it was the one and only time you royally messed up. What were you thinking?" Sirius demanded.

"She was a looker. She was available after Lucius dumped her. I was lonely."

"She _smoked_."

"I didn't know that until I started dating her. And I certainly didn't realize her ulterior motives. Using me to make Lucius jealous, honestly."

"It worked," I answered. "You should have seen him at Christmas. Wore a permanent scowl, kept trying to show off for Narcissa. That was the best part of you dating Narcissa, watching Lucius squirm."

"She didn't even like me."

"But it certainly made an impression on him. Lucius followed her beck and call after that little episode. Narcissa got some power over the Malfoy household after that."

"I keep forgetting that your family is in that circle," Sirius replied, astonished. "You're on the inside."

"I was. Not anymore," I answered. "Oh, Lucius and Narcissa had a baby recently. February, I think. Draco is its name."

"As in the constellation?" Sirius asked.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Remus wondered.

"Boy. He's a carbon copy of his parents, it's creepy. He had a huge photo in the birth announcements in the _Prophet_. Took up a fourth of the page."

"That's a little ego-centric," Remus responded. "Although, those two aren't known for their modesty. Anyway, I was wondering, Sirius, where does Marguerite live anyway?"

"Oh, in London. In one of those semi-detached houses on Ivy Street."

"Where's Ivy Street?" Peter asked, leaning forward.

"Um... let me think. It's not in the middle of the city of London, it's on the outskirts, you know. About five miles or so to the north."

"Oh, that's pretty close," Remus replied. "What's nearby?"

"A grocery store, I think. Yeah, a grocery store about a block away."

"Anything else?" Peter asked.

"Well, St. Mungo's is about eight miles in the opposite direction of the grocery store. I've never really asked."

"What's her house number, for curiosity's sake?" Remus wondered.

"3542 Ivy Street."

"Well," Peter announced, wiping his mouth with a napkin, "I have to go. It's getting late."

"Wait!" Remus said, "I have to show you my new Apparation license. It's awful looking. Let me get it."

"I'll wait," Peter agreed. Remus left the room and re-entered with his wallet. He filed through it. He stopped, gave it a strange look, and flipped through it again. 

"That's weird. I usually put it there." He checked through another section of the wallet. "Not there." He checked another section, shaking his head. "It has to be in here!"

"Maybe it's in your pocket," Sirius suggested.

"I'd feel it if it was in my pocket, Sirius!" Regardless, he checked his pockets anyway. Nothing.

"When's the last time you've used it?" I asked.

"I showed it at customs." He blinked. "Did I get it back?" He straightened up and looked lost. "The woman didn't give my license back. I lost it at customs!" He swore loudly, making all jump. "James, can I use your fire to call my mother? I have to get my license back or I can't get back to Norway."

"Sure," I answered.

"Make sure you use the Floo," Sirius added, "the first question they'll ask is how you got there and if you say you Apparated, you're dead."

"Yeah, good point. Thanks." Remus threw the Communication Powder into the fire angrily. "This is such a mess!"

Remus spoke briefly to his mother, explaining what had happened, and then he threw in the Floo Powder and zoomed away. We all looked at each other in sympathy. Sighing, Peter said he'd see us again soon and Apparated. 

*** ***

After cleaning up an hour later, we sat around, lamenting Remus' bad luck. At seven o'clock, we decided to play chess.

"I need my pieces," Sirius said. "I'm not using Lily's. They hate me."

"They don't hate you," I replied.

"No, they despise me. Mine are upstairs, I'll get them. Get yours out."

Sirius was only up for a matter of a few minutes when I finished setting up my pieces on my board and he came down without his pieces.

"Lily needs to see you," he said quickly, going towards the door. When I didn't react or move, he added sharply, "Now." He gave me a significant look.

Lily was in labor.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Oh, Peter and Remus footage! It was really hard to write Peter in this scene because I know he's evil but James doesn't so I know what Peter's thinking in all of his lines. It took me forever to figure out where Remus should live. I realized that most of the countries I was looking at were under the Iron Curtain of this time and I didn't want him shot at by Communists. So, that left me with three countries. I liked Norway so there he is. Many of the stories were planned chapters in advanced. Peter and Remus' love lives stories were supposed to be in the chapter when James was all sick but it didn't fit. The term "the violist" is something a friend of mine called his girlfriend. He never referred to her by name. I thought it was a weird thing to call someone so I decided to use it here. The real "violist" did not inspire Blithe; they have nothing in common besides playing the viola. My friend and Peter have nothing in common either. If I tell you any more about the writing of this chapter, I'll ruin the future chapters because although it doesn't look it, this chapter is _very_ important for future chapters. On to the birth of Harry! Please review! I love reviews and I love flames! I read them all and I write back! Leave your e-mail address so I can write back! Press the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	18. Arrivals

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Eighteen: Arrivals

I practically threw myself up the stairs in one leap, rushing to our bedroom. Lily was packing some clothes in a suitcase with some personal items. 

"Lily!" I gasped as I burst through the door. "Is it time?"

"Yes," Lily said calmly, "my water just broke. Help me pack."

"Do you hurt or anything? Do you need to sit down?"

"I'm fine. I had a contraction a while ago but it's gone now. Help me pack."

I couldn't relax. I was pacing madly around the room like some inexperienced post owl. I could barely breathe. "Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin! I can't believe this is it!"

"Help me pack!" Lily commanded. 

"Pack what?" I demanded.

"My toiletries, James! Get them from the bathroom!" I sprinted into the bathroom and stared blankly at the objects in the bathroom. I couldn't for the life of me remember what exactly Lily used for toiletries. 

"Lily! What do you need?"

"Toiletries!"

"What ones?" Lily burst in behind me and grabbed her stuff in a frenzy. With a gasp, she dropped them on the bed and held on to the edge of the bed. I ran up to her, unsure of what to do. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

"Contractions," she hissed. "Oh, ow," she moaned, closing her eyes. 

"Do they hurt?"

"Yes, they hurt, James. They'll pass. I'm in the early stages."

"Oh no! Oh no!" 

Lily turned to me sharply and exclaimed, "James! Please be calm!"

"How can I be calm? My first child is about to be born!"

"James," Lily pleaded, with clear worry in her voice, "if you freak out, I'll freak out. The doctor told me to stay calm and do my breathing exercises, not panic. Please, James. I need you to stay calm. I'm already on the brink, okay?!"

I took a slow, steadying breath. "Okay, alright. Let's take this one step at a time."

Lily took a breath as well as she slowly nodded. "Right. Okay. We need to pack."

We quickly packed the things that Lily needed into the overnight bag we had bought. With that done, we looked at each other and gulped. "Okay," I said calmly as I could even though I was shaking, "now what?"

"I'm going to go with Sirius on the motorbike."

"Remember the face mask," I added. "Where is the face mask?"

"Oh. Right—ah!" She bent over, clutching her stomach. "Ow. This really hurts," she mumbled. 

"Why don't you sit down for a minute?" I suggested. She nodded and I led her to the chair in the room. She pointed to the nightstand where the face mask was and I went to retrieve it for her. She began doing weird breathing exercises. "Does that work?' I asked.

"What?"

"What you're doing."

"It better since I spent money being taught it."

"Was that the class you took while I was out in the coma?" She nodded and continued to do the weird breathing. I came over and stroked her hair. "Okay, when Sirius has the bike all ready, I'll put the stuff in the back and see you off."

"He has to fly. I don't think I could take a regular drive," Lily added in between breaths.

"Right. We'll tell him that. Right after that, I'll Apparate to St. Mungo's and tell them you're coming."

"We want Doctor Laurel. Doctor Vita recommended Doctor Laurel, don't forget," she reminded.

"Doctor Laurel. Doctor Laurel. Right, got it. We want Doctor Laurel."

We heard Sirius bounding up the stairs and I went over to the bed to gather the bag as he walked through the door.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Want to hear something funny?" he asked dully.

"Sure. What?"

"It won't start."

"What won't start?"

"The bike. Won't start. I've been trying and trying and it won't go."

"What do you mean it won't start?" I demanded, gripping the bag's strap.

"It won't start. It putters and dies."

"Then fix it," I responded, gritting my teeth.

"That could take hours. I don't even know what's wrong."

I threw the bag back on the bed. I went towards him, my hands going for his throat. "I'm going kill you, Sirius!"

"It's not my fault! It won't start!"

"It has to start, Sirius! How else are we going to get Lily to St. Mungo's?"

"I don't know. That bike is not going to start within the next ten minutes, that's for sure."

I began to pace again. I put my head in my hands. "I can't believe this. Of all the stupid times for your stupid bike not to start..."

"We could find another way to get her there, couldn't we?"

"What?" I laughed bitterly. "Floo her?" Lily shook her head sharply at the prospect. "Apparate? This is only the _worst_ time she could try it!" I ran my hands through my hair. "Maybe... maybe... she can just give birth here. On the bed."

"Are you nuts?" Lily screamed. 

"It's not unheard of. People still do it." I explained, nodding as I pointed out, "_I_ was born at home."

"Do you realize what that would do to our _sheets_? We'd have to throw all of them out! Never mind that, I'm not giving birth without a professional present or in a sterile setting! Forget it!"

"Why? You're going to give birth whether you're with a professional or by yourself."

"James, please shut up. I'm not giving birth her—ah!" 

"Personally," Sirius said, "I don't feel like playing doctor. Okay, so we can't Floo her, we can't Apparate her, my bike is shot, now what? Taxi?"

"St. Mungo's has anti-Muggle shields. We need a special charm to give to the driver to break it and that could take hours to get," I explained. 

"Why not a regular Muggle hospital?"

"No! Absolutely not!" I snapped. "Magical accidents can happened during labor and besides, I wouldn't feel that our baby would be safe in Muggle hospital. No, it has to be St. Mungo's."

"Well... we could take a taxi as far as we could and walk the rest of the way."

Lily hissed, "The 'rest of the way' is two miles! Unless you want to carry me, there's no way I'll be able to make it."

"Broomstick?"

"We don't own one and besides," Lily answered, "I don't think I'd be able to fly the whole way there."

I growled in frustration. "There has to be a way to get you there."

"Isn't there a Wizarding taxi service or anything?" Lily demanded. There was silence. Before Sirius could answer, I snapped, "No."

"James," Sirius answered sharply. 

"We're not doing that."

"James, we have to!"

"It scares me!"

"So what? You had one bad experience with it and you're put off it forever?"

"It's a bad omen!"

"James, I don't see any other way. Yes," Sirius replied to Lily, "there is a version. It's called the Knight Bus."

*** ***

You probably know all about the Knight Bus. Just stick your wand hand up and it comes to fetch you from anywhere on land to take you to anywhere else on land. It was developed during my parent's early adulthood, after the war with Grindelwald. I hate it because it reminds of a rather bad experience I had.

When I was sixteen, I was reaching my sense of individual self. It was the early seventies, come on. I was really fed up with my parents. They had their routines and their boring standards. I was so sick of it. They never did anything unusual or fun. They expected me to just follow in their footsteps. It had slightly annoyed me since I had begun at Hogwarts and met my three friends but at that age, _everything_ about them drove me crazy. They were too old, too conformist, too relenting, too boring, too... ugh. Just everything about them I hated. I hated our mansion, I hated our House Elves, I hated the times we ate meals for goodness' sake. During the summer, I was confrontational about everything. No matter what they said, I would argue against it.

"Do you think we should change the colour of the dining room to green, dear?"

"No! I hate green! Why do you want to make everything green?! Pick some other colours!"

"Fine, how about blue?"

"No! Why is blue always the second choice? Do you people have no imagination?!"

Of course, my parents were startled by my behavior and at first wondered what was wrong, what was making me so upset. I guess they talked it over with the pureblood friends and they must have come to the conclusion that it was phase I was going through. So, later on, when I did my whole "I-hate-the-world-and-everything-in-it", one would say, "Yes, dear. We understand" while the other would say, "it's just a phase, he'll grow out of it."

That line drove me more insane. It wasn't just a _phase_, I thought angrily. They just didn't _understand_. I was an individual and soon to be an independent adult. I had ideas, dreams, ambitions, motivations, and opinions of my own. They just didn't want to accept that I had grown up beyond their stupid humdrum ways. So, I became more argumentative. 

One night, at dinner, I was brooding in my usual teenaged style while my parents discussed how everyone was "growing up". 

"Yes, Lucius is growing up just like his father. Don't you think Narcissa and he make a wonderful couple?" my mother said.

"Well, he seems a bit too big for his britches if you ask me," my father replied.

"Well, he's at that age, like James is. He's just eager to start adulthood. They're all like that now. Soon, they'll grow up and have children of their own. I think Narcissa would be a good mother, don't you?"

I snorted. Narcissa a good mother? Yeah, right. And I can pass an eye test with my glasses off. 

"Do you think they'll get married?" my father asked.

"Oh, you can never tell with children these days. They live in a much different world than we did, Harold. Very different." My mother paused and cooed, "Do you know who I think also turned out lovely. Yvonne. I remember her with her lisp."

"Good thing they got rid of that," my father replied.

"Yes. Little Yvonne Zabini, what a darling child she was. She has really grown in a dashing woman. She got the looks of the family, I must say."

"Isn't she a year below James?" her father inquired.

"I think so. Isn't she, James?"

"Yes," I muttered darkly. "Slytherin."

"Hm... very pretty," my mother sighed. "You know, I think you would be cute with her, James."

I dropped my fork and stared darkly at my mother. "Cute? With Yvonne?"

"Yes. You two would make a cute couple."

"I'm dating Lily Evans, remember?"

"I know that, dear. But, if you weren't dating Lily, you would be..."

"Do you two have something against me with Lily or something?"

My mother looked horrified. "No, James. Not at all."

"You didn't like her from the start. Didn't think Muggle-borns were good enough, did you?"

"Now, now, James," my father interrupted, "although we didn't think much of Muggle-borns at first, we don't think that anymore. Lily shows herself to a fine woman."

"So, what's wrong with Lily?" I demanded.

"Nothing, dear," my mother said, laughing slightly, "I was just saying if you weren't with Lily, then I think Yvonne would be a good match. It's just hypothetical."

"Why did you say that about Lily?"

"We didn't mean to say anything about Lily. You just took it the wrong way."

"Are you two arranging a marriage with Yvonne behind my back or something?" I shrieked.

"James, don't be silly. No one arranges marriages anymore, not even the Malfoys and they used to love that practice. They didn't get all that money from nowhere." My mother sighed and shook her head. "You're clearly in one of your teenaged mood swings. We won't discuss it anymore."

"I'm not having a mood swing," I grumbled, stabbing my carrot with my fork. "I can be upset when I want to."

"That's enough," my father said softly. "Eat your dinner."

"Anyway," my mother commented, "I think Yvonne is a pretty girl."

"I DON'T LIKE YVONNE!" I shouted. 

"James Harold Potter!" my father barked fiercely, "one more outburst and you're going to your room and staying there until I say so. And you don't scream at your mother like that. You're nearly an adult and you should start behaving like one."

I got up sharply. "Fine! I will! I want to be excused!"

"You are excused," my mother replied tensely. I tossed my chair aside and marched up to my room in my empty area of mansion. There I paced and sulked and muttered obscenities. I was furious. How dare they? If I'm nearly an adult, why don't they treat me like one?! I was so mad. I wanted to run back down there and give them my real opinion of what I thought of them. Yeah, I'll show them. 

I don't need them, I thought. I'm nearly seventeen years old. I'm the brightest student of my year. They can't stop me from doing what I want. I had decided. I was leaving this stupid cage of society and striking out on my own. I had money in my account, which had been slowly growing since the day of my birth. It was enough to live on and buy a flat in Muggle London with until I could find work. I couldn't live in Wizarding London, it had to be Muggle, it would be harder to track me down there. 

So, once night had fallen and I was positive my parents had gone to bed, I packed my possessions in my school trunk, put it in the Minimizer bag I had gotten for my fifteenth birthday, headed downstairs to walk out the door. With a look of triumph, I swung the door shut behind me. I walked down the fields of our estate in the half-moon lit darkness, feeling very adult. I was doing it, I told myself, doing it on my own. No one to stop me. 

Once was I far enough away from the mansion, I held out my wand and the purple triple decker bus with the gold letters reading "Knight Bus" on its windshield stopped in front of me. The door opened and a young man in a purple uniform stepped out. He looked about twenty years old and very bored. I grinned up at him. He raised an eyebrow but only said, "Where to?"

"London."

"Where in London?"

"Muggle London."

"_Where_ in Muggle London?"

"Um... East End?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Which shore of the river?"

"Uh... South is good."

The uniformed man looked wary but said, "Eight sickles, please." I fished it out and handed it to him. "You can have a hot chocolate for twenty-six Knuts and with twenty-six Knuts you get a hot water bottle and a toothbrush." I shook my head as I climbed abroad. 

Inside was a half dozen of brass beds and light came from brackets on the walls with lit candles in them. There was a staircase leading upstairs but since no one was down with me, I decided to sit on a bed. However, as I went towards the bed, the Bus gave a mighty bang and, with a violent lurch, knocked me off my feet. The conductor snickered at my lack of footing. I scowled at him before crawling to the nearest bed. 

The ride was rather rough and unpleasant. I ended up clinging to the bedpost the entire frightening ride. Feeling rather shaken, the conductor finally announced, "East End, South Side, Muggle London. We've stopped right at Tower Bridge. Good enough?"

"Yeah, great." Glad to be off the Bus, I leapt off and with a bang, it moved on. I had no idea which side of London was best but I wasn't quite sure whether or not this area was rough. I shrugged. I have my wand and you are allowed to use it in emergencies. Besides, I asked myself as I began walking aimlessly, could the Ministry find me here in Muggle London anyway? 

The streets were very dirty but after visiting Quesera, nothing fazed me. I wondered if I might run into a Muggle version of Sirius. I chuckled. Everyone's got a double somewhere and it would be just my luck to find another him. There were a lot of people on the street. Many drunk young men and women staggered out of pubs and excited (and sometimes drunk as well) men and women were heading into or out of discos where there was a lot of light filtering out onto the street with the music blaring. I began to feel a brief flutter of panic but I was resolved to stick to my plan. 

My first move was to find a newspaper with ads for flats in London. Next, find a hotel to stay at for the night. Once I got lodgings, I could look for employment, most likely in Wizarding London, seeing as I knew next to nothing about Muggle life. As I walked through the streets, I took in the Muggles around me although I saw some older students of Hogwarts that had left in years past but they didn't pay attention to me. I debated with myself as I walked whether or not to tell my friends where I was. On one hand, they could visit me and see the sights. On the other, my parents might ask them first and they might be attacked by their consciences and say where I was. I decided that I would tell them on the train since at that point, I would already have a place and employment and it wouldn't matter what my parents thought. Feeling satisfied that my plan was going so well, I hummed along to the music playing in the discos and bars. 

After a quarter of an hour, I gradually left the brightly coloured discos and saw more bars. These bars were more akin to Quesera as well as the streets. There were more flats and housing projects surrounding me. It was generally darker but that could have been my imagination. The discos gave way to stores labeled "Adult XXX Entertainment. Magazines, films, books, toys, and more!!!" and clubs that also served as, I realized as I gathered clues from signs, strip clubs. There were no motels so I had to keep walking.

As I passed another strip club, I saw that in the alleyway was a newspaper stand. Realizing that it would have flat listings, I scurried over. One required something denoted with a weird symbol (I later learned that the Muggles call that symbol a pound. One pound of what, I wonder) and one of it but the other said "Free" and it clearly said it had listings of available flats so I got that one. 

Across the street, between two brick buildings, was a shadowed woman leaning against the wall of the left building. Starved for some human interaction and needing some advice on where the nearest hotel was, I was walked over to her. She had on fish-net stockings with a blue tube top that seemed pasted on and too-short leather skirt. She wore very high heels on her feet and her hair was long and appeared to have been straightened. She wore dark blue eye shadow and with dark red lipstick and way too much blush. At her feet was a brown bag with a bottle in it with another square package.

"Looking for a good time?" she asked in a bored tone as I approached.

"A good time?" I repeated.

She turned her head around to look at me. She snorted. "Oh, it's a kid."

I growled, "I'm not a kid!"

"Sure you're not. How old are you?"

"Eighteen years old."

"When's your birthday?" she asked quickly.

"March 15th."

"The year, dummy."

"Uh..."

"Too slow. How old are you?"

"Sixteen," I admitted glumly but I added, "But I'll be seventeen soon."

She sighed as she rolled her eyes. "I guess I'll accept that. Even if you were looking for a good time, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself." She looked at me again and smiled. "Or you do know what to do with yourself but not with another person."

"What?" I asked.

"Fine, play innocent," she answered. 

"Um..." I mumbled, "do you mind if I sit here? I've been walking all night and my legs are tired."

"Sure, I don't care," she scoffed. I sat down carefully on the dirty street and stretched my legs.

"You're short," she remarked suddenly.

"Thanks," I replied, annoyed. 

There was a long silence in which she drank from the bottle.

"Is that good?" I asked.

"What?"

"What you're drinking."

She laughed. "I never really notice the taste anymore. I drink it to keep from going mad!" She took another drink and then she said, "Well, if you're going to sit there, I might as well know your name."

"James. You?"

"Trish. So, why are you wandering around Bermondsey of all places?"

"I ran away from home," I announced proudly. She just raised her eyebrows.

She took another drink and inquired, "So, James, do you have a girlfriend?"

I nodded. "Yes, her name's Lily Evans. She's the smartest girl in our year."

"Huh. Like smart girls, James?"

"I don't know. I guess so. I've only liked her so far. But she is pretty. Prettiest girl I know."

"Do you tell her that a lot?"

"Well..." I admitted, "I still get kind of shy around her still. I'm not the type of guy to start composing sonnets."

"Hm. So, you haven't slept with her yet, have you?"

"No," I told her glumly. 

"You sound so sad. Do you want to?"

"Yes," I guiltily admitted, red-faced.

"Have you tried?"

"Well..." I told her all about what type of girl Lily was and about my family's reputation. She laughed until she cried. "It's not funny."

"Yes, it is! So, you're the innocent one of the group, I take it?"

"Yeah, and the only one who has a steady girlfriend. It's kind of sad."

"You're right. It is." She took another drink. "You know, you could just take her to a motel sometime. No one would interrupt you there."

I squirmed. "I don't know."

"You like getting caught?"

"I don't think she would go for it."

She shrugged. "Well, don't say I never tried to help. So, you've never been interested in any other girls?"

"Nope. Just Lily."

"Never? Not one other girl?"

"Just her."

"You haven't looked at another girl? Not once thought about fooling around behind her back?"  
"Why would I do that?" I demanded, horrified.

"For a bit of excitement? A bit of practice? A rush of danger? How should I know?"

"But I love Lily!"

"You've never even looked at another girl's butt as she walks past you?"

"No. Why should I?"

She stared at me. "That's unnatural. You're lying. You must have at least looked at a dirty magazine once in your life."

"No! My parents would kill me!"

She bent down to stare at me in the face, giving me a view I didn't want to see. I could smell liquor on her breath and cheap, foul perfume on her body. "James, your dad probably has a stack this high," she said slowly with her hand up to my head, "of dirty pictures hidden away that your mum has never found and never will."

"My father wouldn't have such things! He's too boring, for starters," I explained. 

She laughed. "Whatever, James. Believe what you want. Tell yourself you've never thought about another girl in your life. Keep telling yourself that." She straightened up, shaking her head. Her hair caught the street light. It was a dirty brown. 

"What do you know?"

She shrugged. "So," she replied, "what do you plan to do with yourself now that you've done a runner on your parents?"

"Well," I explained, "I have to find a room to stay at and find a flat. And look for a job. That's why I came over, to ask if you know where there's a hotel where I can stay."

"Sure but you might dirty your little pure mind with the sounds of people doing _dirty_ things that you never think about," she answered, smiling. 

"Oh, I don't care. I can handle it."

"Yeah, but people do some _weird_ stuff in hotels. Thought I'd warn ya."

"Where?"

"Down the block. It's called the 'Rest Stop', can't miss it."

"Good. I'll stay here a minute longer though. My legs are still sore."

The woman bent down to the square package and opened it up. I couldn't see inside past her but she took up what appeared to be a self-rolled cigarette. She took out a lighter and stuck the white cigarette to her mouth. Seeing me, she asked, "Want one?"

"What is it?"

"Grass."

Grass, I thought sagely. Hm, must be Muggle slang for a cigarette. "Sure."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if anyone asks, I didn't give it to you, got it?" I put the "grass" in my mouth and she flicked her lighter near my chin to light it. It smelled funny. "You know how to do this, right?" she asked skeptically.

"Breathe in?" I mumbled around the rolled up bit of paper. She lit the end and I breathed in. Smoke filled in my mouth and throat and I coughed violently. She laughed but did not move to assist me, she just continued to smoke her own. Once the coughing fit had passed, I put the smoking roll up to my lips again and breathed in. I coughed again. Growling at myself for my weakness, I resolved to smoke this entire thing to ash even if it killed me.

Once I got the hang of it, I felt elated and happy. My mind was really foggy and I couldn't really remember what I supposed to be doing. My heart was racing in my chest but that didn't bother me too much. Feeling very satisfied with life, I thanked Trish for her delightful conversation, as she most likely gave me a very worried look, and set off to find the motel.

As I walked along, I became increasingly hungry. All the buildings seemed to look otherworldly and the alleyways seemed to be the wrong width than before. I finally made it the motel and made my way to the glass door. However, I misjudged the width of the door and ran smack into the brick wall next to it. This happened a few times before I finally gripped on to the door handle and pulled. 

There was receptionist and I can't for the life of me remember what she looked like and I can only remember there were keys on the walls and it was dark. I went over to the desk, which seemed to slant to one side but everything stayed on it so it could have just been me. I asked for a room and the receptionist asked for some amount in pounds. I didn't quite understand what the receptionist meant. She asked again. Then I realized I didn't have any Muggle money with me. 

I began to panic. I didn't have any Muggle money, I didn't know where I was, I didn't know how to get to Grignotts from there, and I was starving! I finally ran out of the motel and had a rather splendid panic attack in the street. I didn't know where to go from there. My thoughts were completely scattered. What about my parents? They'll probably going to kill me for what I said tonight! And Lily would probably think I'm an utter failure for running away to London like this. What if I get mugged? What if I'm expelled for defending myself here? 

Breathing harshly and my heart racing more than before, I tried to think of a safe place I could go. Not Peter, his mother would never allow me to lay low there. Not Remus either, he would go tell my parents. Sirius? Yes, Sirius would help me. He'd probably understand this mess and his aunt would never ask questions. 

I stuck out my wand hand again and the Knight Bus appeared. It was the same conductor from before but his face was all warped. I jumped on, saying quickly, "Quesera, Sirius Black's house."

"Eight Sickles, please." I paid the cash and staggered over to the bed. If the first trip was rough, this trip was unbearable. All the objects in the room seemed to creep towards me and then slip back farther away. I buried my head in the pillow to avoid looking around. 

Finally, I reached Sirius' house. I ran up to the door and began banging on it with all my might. Soon enough, Sirius opened the door. He was dressed in just some old shorts. He blinked at me bemusedly, I had obviously just woken him up. "James?"

"Oh, Sirius! You have to help me!" I burst into his house. "I ran away from home and my parents are going to kill me and I have no Muggle money and I am so hungry, I'm going to die!" I ran into his kitchen without bothering with the light and heading towards his fridge. However, it seemed to leap forward and I ran into it. 

"James," Sirius asked wearily as he followed behind me, "do you know what time it is? It's 2:40 in the morning. What are you doing here? And what is that smell?"

"I need a place to stay until I can get to Grignotts and exchange my money."

"And do what?"

"Rent a flat in Muggle London. I ran away from home," I explained, swinging the door open. "I need something to eat."

"You ran away from home?" I told him the whole story about how this summer was going and what had happened at dinner. I then went on to relate my stories in London and my conversation with Trish. "She gave you something called 'grass'?"

"Yes. I think it's Muggle slang for a cigarette. I never thought a cigarette would make me feel this way."

Sirius looked stunned. "James, you are such a moron. Grass isn't a cigarette. Grass is marijuana! No wonder you're acting so bizarre!"

At that point, Clarissa came down to ask what was going on. Sirius told her what happened and she covered for me with my parents, saying I had taken to trip to London to blow off steam and ended up back at Sirius' place after she had gone to bed (which was true, I suppose). My parents brushed off the entire affair as one of my teenaged mood swing episodes.

Looking back, I realized that that was the _stupidest_ thing I had ever done. To this day, the Knight Bus reminds me of that stupid running away episode.

*** ***

But we were going to use it whether I liked it or not. We gathered Lily's bag and went outside. Sirius held out his wand hand and the Knight Bus appeared. It was the same design as nine years before but with a different conductor (a young girl this time) and driver. We paid the nine Sickles and refused the hot chocolate, hot water bottle, and toothbrush. 

"St. Mungo's," Sirius requested. Lily laid on one of the beds as I sat on her left and Sirius sat on her right. I rubbed her hand nervously. 

"I hope we get there quickly," I remarked, nervously. 

"Don't worry. We have plenty of time," Lily said quietly, "Labor can take over twelve hours."

"It can?"

"Of course! Well," she admitted, "there are exceptions. I was born in five hours for example."

"That's weird, because my mother told me I took seven hours during Christmas and everyone said that seven hours is an unusually long time."

"James, she must have said seventeen. You must have heard wrong."

"I took three hours," Sirius commented. 

"I said there are exceptions! On average, it can take twelve hours but I've heard of longer."

"I took four hours," the conductor added. "How long did your mum take with you, Billie?"

"Three hours. My mum used ta say, 'I spent three long hours with you and this is the respect I get!' whenever I acted up. Dear ol' mum."

"But that's impossible! Most people have very long labors! How come all of you were born under ten hours?" Lily demanded..

"But the book said five hours was normal," Sirius reflected.

"What book?" I asked.

"Remus' present. I flipped through the introduction in case she went into labor while you were at work or something. It said that most Muggles take nearly twenty hours or more but witches don't. Something to do with the magical energy. The baby can 'will' itself out faster."

"You're joking," Lily gasped.

"I thought you looked through it too. That's why Muggles have a one percent chance of dying when delivering magical children, the mother isn't ready yet when the baby comes out."

"I didn't know that! I just asked my mother and that's what she said! She said... she said... I can't believe this!" Lily shrieked. 

"Wait," the conductor asked, "are you in labor now?"

"Yes!" We all answered.

"Billie! This lady's going to pop! We need to make a detour to St. Mungo's now!" She grabbed an intercom by the door and said sweetly, "Pardon us but the Knight Bus has to make a detour to St. Mungo's Hospital. We are sorry for any inconvenience this may cause. Thank you for your patience." She set the intercom aside and barked, "Billie! Step on it!"

"Don't worry, little lady," the driver drawled, "Billie's gonna make sure you get to St. Mungo's. I'm gonna break every speed limit!"

"How comforting," I muttered as I lurched forward and Sirius flew backwards on to the bed. Within minutes, we were outside of St. Mungo's and we bolted out the door of the Knight Bus.

We ran into the double doors of the hospital and I slammed myself against the desk, gasping, "My wife's having a baby."

"We want Doctor Laurel!" Lily added.

The nurse nodded and pressed a button. "Doctor Laurel to Reception. Doctor Laurel to Reception."

With a pop, a doctor slightly older than myself appeared right beside me. He flashed an identification card at the nurse behind the desk, who nodded. She pressed another button. 

"Hello, I'm Doctor Laurel. There will be a wheelchair brought over shortly to carry Lily Potter, is it?" Lily nodded. "To send you to the Delivery Room. Which of you is James Potter?"

"I am," I answered.

"Would you like to stay in the room with your wife?" I nodded. He looked at Sirius. "May I ask who you are?" 

"Sirius Black. I'm just a friend. I'll wait outside."

"That would be best. The nurses and I need room to work and the less people there, the better." Soon enough, a nurse sped over with a wheelchair and Lily, giving a weak smile, sat in it. "Follow us, you two," he ordered, nodding to us men, "we will pass the waiting room where Mr. Black may wait and Mr. Potter can follow us into Delivery."

He didn't wait for us to see if we understood because the nurse and him sped off with Lily and I sprinted to catch up. The doctor asked Lily various questions on when her water broke and how her contractions were. When we passed the waiting room, Sirius stopped and said quickly, "I'm going to owl Remus and Peter, okay?" I nodded and waved good-bye. "Good luck!" he called out as the door slammed behind me. 

*** ***

I will spare you the gory details of birth. It was an exhausting process of doctors checking, Lily and I answering questions, Lily screaming in pain, and I constantly reassuring her but mostly myself that everything was going fine. 

After five hours since the whole process began, at midnight on July thirty-first 1980, Lily gave one last push and we all heard a high-pitched wail. I was staring at Lily's sweaty face as Doctor Laurel announced, "It's a boy." 

We grinned at each other. Lily was panting heavily but looked triumphant. "James, look at your son," she said softly.

I had asked many fathers what they felt when their children were born. All said that it was indescribable. I have to agree on that.

It was the most hideous thing I had ever seen. It was all purple and covered in blood, attached to Lily by some hose. I had seen babies before but none of them looked like _that_. Its head was all misshapen and it was flailing its little arms around madly. It was not what I had expected. I gave a little squeak and fainted.

*** ***

I soon found myself lying on my back, looking up into a white overhead light. Blinking a few times, Sirius' face entered my field of vision. He was grinning broadly. 

"Sirius? Where am I?"

"The waiting room," he answered cheerily. "They say you fainted at the sight of your son."

I pulled myself up to a sitting position. Remembering the horrible sight, I remarked, "There is something wrong with that baby."

"Oh?"

"It looked like a House Elf that was left in the garbage compactor!"

Sirius laughed and wound up banging his head against the wall. "Ow! James, what did you think babies looked like when they came out?"

"Like babies! And how come you know?"

"I asked about where babies really came from and Elliot, the sadist, gave me a book that outlined _everything_. It had plenty of pictures. It put me off girls for a week. I'm surprised you didn't know."

"I did," I explained, "I knew that babies weren't picture perfect but _that_ was gross."

"Well, you were probably pretty ugly too."

"Hey!" I smacked him across the shin. He hissed.

"That's the shin Lily kicked earlier! It still hurts."

"Speaking of earlier, where is Remus and Peter?" I got up from the floor and brushed myself off. 

"Don't know. I called their houses but no one was home. I owled them too but they didn't come. Jerks."

"Oh!" I interrupted, suddenly remembering, "Marguerite! You didn't..."

"I called her and explained what had happened. She understood. I'm seeing her tomorrow at four in the afternoon. Come on, let's get the owls out to announce the gender of the baby and head home."

After we sent out the message to Peter and Remus and finding out that Lily was fast asleep when I came to visit (I kissed her good night as she slept), we Apparated home. 

As we headed to our rooms, Sirius called out softly to me, "James."

"What?" I answered, stopping at my bedroom door.

"You're a daddy now."

I took a sharp breath. That hadn't really hit me yet, it was still such a new idea. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Congratulations, James."

"Thanks."

He entered his room and I went into mine. I brushed my teeth quickly and changed in my night clothes and as soon as I laid down, I fell asleep.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: DON'T DO DRUGS!!!! MARIJUANA IS BAD FOR YOU!!!! James is a trained professional. Plus, he's fictional! I can not stress it enough! DON'T DO DRUGS! Anyway, finally, the chapter you had been waiting for: Harry's birth! Only fifteen story months to go until the end of this story! Thanks to sugarquill.net for helping me decide what the old term for marijuana was in the seventies and what shady part of London James should end up in. I adjusted the prices for the Knight Bus to allow for inflation, that's why it's cheaper than when Harry goes in the third book. This took forever to write for some reason, I don't know why. The next couple of chapters are pretty intense! Just warning you! Tell me what you think! I need to know! I need reviews! I want to hear what you think! Review, e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com , make sure to leave your e-mail address so I write back! See ya later!


	19. Parenthood

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Nineteen: Parenthood

I was back in my parents' mansion, in the receiving hall. There was no one around and I could hear only the sound of weeping. I walked, confused, towards the sound.

It was coming from the dining room. My mother and father both were weeping, their faces buried solemnly in their hands, shaking with tears, as they sat on either end of the dining table. "Mother? Father? What is the matter?"

"My poor boy!" my mother cried. "So young!"

"Mother? Tell me what is wrong!"

"Such innocents!" my father wailed. 

"Father! Please, let me help," I said soothingly. I wanted to reach out a hand to comfort them but found my hands occupied. Looking down, I noticed a baby boy cradled in my arms. He appeared to be a little over a year old, with tufts of rich, black hair covering his head and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt over his eyebrow. He stared up at me with an inquiring glance and I gasped at the shocking green eyes I beheld. "Are you my son?" He merely smiled at me. 

Suddenly, a breeze blew a large set of French doors open in the dining room, behind my mother. From the bright white light, Prongs stepped into the room. "Prongs?" He nodded at me and snorted in reply. His antlers had grown and reached to the ceiling of the room. I couldn't help but be mystified by the subtle yet powerful gaze as he held his head high. If the lion is the king of all beasts, no one had told Prongs. Stepping gracefully like a ballerina with pointe shoes, he came towards me. He gave a look that clearly meant that I was to follow him, then he turned away into the bright light outside. Adjusting the little infant in my arms, I walked after him.

I was in a lush green forest. The sunshine trickled down through the summer leaves, creating patterns of shadow and dots on the path. I looked behind me but my childhood home was gone along with my parents. Prongs gave me a look of urgency. He tiptoed along the cleared path as I followed alongside him with the baby. The air was warm and sweet and the wind managed to sneak in a few puffs across my neck now and then. 

After walking through the forest, we came upon a clearing. There was what looked like a Greek temple. Its marble columns shone magically in the sunshine far above. There were no windows and the stairs did not go up very far. The entire structure was gleaming; there was no dust, no marks, no indication of being modern or ancient. Prongs nodded his head towards it: I was to enter. He walked with me until we reached the steps. I journeyed up but he remained at the base like a guard dog. 

Inside were pews upon pews of people. I recognized a few but most were strangers. They were dressed in many fine and luxurious robes in various colours and patterns. All were under deep distress. Some were wailing and crying without abandon. Others comforted the saddened with grim faces and wet eyes. A few sat silently in the pews as tears ran down their faces without bothering to wipe them away. 

Leaning against the white wall on my left, Peter stood with his arms crossed. He was not crying; his face was blank of emotion. I walked over to him and saw that his right hand was bleeding badly. His crossed arms allowed him to stick his hand under his left arm. Whether it was to disguise the injury or stop the bleeding, I wasn't sure. He was dressed in grey high-quality robes except for the dark red spot where the blood stained under his arm. The blood lingered on other areas, I noticed, like someone had flicked a bloodied paintbrush at him many times. A few of the grieving came over to Peter and bowed deeply, muttering thanks and praise. One or two bent to their knees and kissed the hem of his robes. Peter said nothing and his expression did not change. 

In the very front middle pew, Remus sat stiff-backed, alone on the very left side. I went to him. His jaw was firmly set like stone. His eyes were dry but they burned with grief, disbelief, and fury. His hands were clasped tightly together in his lap as if he longed to hurt someone and only his will power was holding him in the lonely pew. He was dressed in black with white lining, however these were of mediocre quality as if Remus hadn't bothered with how he appeared and had thrown some random robe on without caring. He stared straight ahead, his pained eyes unmoving. No one came to praise Remus or even to comfort him. I turned my head to see what held Remus' fascination. It was two white closed coffins side by side on a platform covered in black satin. Lilies surrounded them. 

In back corner of the large room, a door slammed open. A pair of dementors swooped out, dragging someone behind them in their clawed hands: Sirius. Sirius was dressed in Azkaban prison robes, blood splattered over his front. He was struggling with all his might, screaming for someone to believe him, someone to save him. As he passed the coffins, he cried, "I didn't do it! I may have been to blame but _I_ _didn't do it_! Please, someone, anyone, please _listen_!" But no one was listening and the dementors continued to pull him along. He screamed to Remus, "Please! Remus, help me! You know I didn't do any of it!" Remus seemed to snap out of his reverie and turned only his head to stare at Sirius, who was slowly passing by. Remus blinked blankly at him and then he drew in his breath, his throat gargling, and spat in Sirius' face. "Rot in Hell, traitor," Remus hissed coldly and turned back to stare at the coffins. 

Sirius continued to scream and wail as he dragged between the pews. He called out to some members in the crowd by name. Most did not even acknowledge his cries but near the end, Marguerite, one of the silent onlookers whose tears just ran down her face, raised her hand, half-reaching out to him but at the last second, she shook her head sadly, drew her arm back and looked away. Sirius looked at Peter, who was still leaning against the wall, unfazed. "Peter! Curse you, Peter!" he screamed in rage. Peter merely raised his right hand and wriggled his fingers to say good-bye. I gasped when he did this because his index finger was missing and the hand was covered in blood from the wound. With one final howl of despair, the dementors led him out of the building. Suddenly, little Percy Weasley appeared at Peter's side, grinning up at him, offering an outstretched hand, saying cheerfully, "Want to come home with me? I'll take real good care of you and I'll love you forever." Peter shrugged and took the boy's hand in his left. Percy squealed with glee and led Peter out of the building, rattling on, "I'll call you Scabbers, like in Auntie Virginia's book even though I'm not supposed to talk about her anymore. I've got red hair like Ron Seannings and my little baby brother was named Robert but now he's Ron like Ron Seannings so I guess he can play with you too and..."

"What is going on?" I demanded but received no reply. Finally, I went up to the closed coffins and adjusted the baby so I could use my other hand to open the lid. I opened the left one and the lid was surprisingly light. Once the coffin was open, I looked inside. It was Lily. Her eyes were closed and I could see that her hands were crossed over her chest; she looked like she was merely sleeping. With a startled yelp, I closed the coffin and resolved myself against my gut to open the other coffin. I, of course, was in the other one. I shook my head in disbelief. How can this be? Why are we both dead?

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around to see one of the mourners with her arms outstretch as if to embrace me. "Is that the boy? Is that really _him_?"

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, frantic.

Soon, other mourners came up behind her, buzzing, whispering, "It's him. It's really him! Look at his _scar_!" They were all pointing to the baby or reaching out to me. They were completely enraptured, like cult members before their deity. I backed away as they came forward, more numerous. 

"Go away! I don't understand! Leave us be!" I demanded angrily. They just followed me, pressing closer and closer. They begged me to let them touch him, hold him, behold the scar on his head, while reaching out like demons from the depths of the underworld. "Stop! Leave us alone! Stop pressing against me!" The baby began to cry and I clung to him tightly. I wouldn't let these _crazy_ people near him. "You're scaring him! You're scaring _me_!" They crowded in closer, the ones in front started stroking him with their fingers. I pulled farther back, pressing him against my chest, his face hidden in my shoulder. He was still crying and squirming in fear. "Don't you dare come closer!" They did anyway. They were like one huge many-headed monster that couldn't be heeled. "We want the Boy-Who-Lived," they chanted. I tried to shield him with my body. I screamed with paternal rage, "No! You can't have him! He's just a little boy! He's _frightened_, don't you understand?! You're all _scaring_ him! He doesn't _want_ your attention! He doesn't _want_ all this! Leave us alone, do you hear me?! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

The crowd shuddered and separated as Prongs burst them apart with his bulk and antlers. The mob was knocked off their feet as Prongs stood in front of me, nearly nose to nose. Shaking with rage and fright, I knew what I had to do. "Come on, Prongs, let's get out of here." I crawled on to Prongs' back like he was a riding horse and he galloped out of the building.

We rode through the beautiful forest at high speed, putting as much distance as possible between us and the crazy baby worshippers back in the temple. I stroked the baby's hair and eventually he stopped crying, even managing a smile. Even though Prongs was flying at breakneck speeds, I was able to comfortably observe my son in my arms. I cuddled him against my neck and absorbed his warmth. He fit perfectly everywhere I put him and in every position I placed him. "I love you," I told him, kissing the scar on his head, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Then I felt the bottom of my stomach drop as Prongs and his riders changed altitude. Out of nowhere, a cliff had appeared and since Prongs had been going so fast, he couldn't stop in time and we began to free fall down towards a stream. The three of us split apart, flying in opposite directions. I reached out my arms to grab my son but he flew away from me. 

After forever, I landed harshly in the stream. I moved my leg slightly and I grit my teeth in pain. My leg was broken so I wasn't going to be walking anywhere. I looked around me but to my horror, I couldn't see where my baby had landed. I searched madly, my breathing quickened in panic. "Where are you?" I cried. 

There! He was floating downstream and Prongs was nearby on the shore. Prongs got up, shook himself, and stepped into the water. The baby's blanket caught on a collection of pointy plants growing off from the shore. He bobbed in the slow current of the stream, fussing in the cloth. Prongs looked at me. "Go get him, Prongs! Bring him to me!" Prongs nodded curtly and skipped lightly over to my son. He nibbled on the plants in order to free him. Suddenly, he stopped and raised his head to peer into the forest on the shore. A great bang rang out. Prongs gave a strong moan. A large red spot grew on his flank and he rose to stand on his hind legs, rolling his front legs madly, and stepped back on all four. He teetered to one side and then the other before crashing into the water.

"NO!" I screamed. I tried to propel myself forward but I found that my unbroken leg was caught in some underwater plant and it had no intention of releasing my ankle. Flailing madly to free myself, I kept screaming at Prongs' fate. Who had done this? 

Suddenly, a man walked out of the forest, totting an old-fashioned Muggle rifle over his shoulder. He was tall, beefy man with nearly no neck and a red face. His moustache was well-trimmed and thick. It was Vernon Dursley. I stopped moving, perplexed at the identity of Prongs' murderer. "Well," he barked, "that's the end of _that_ nonsense. No more of that foolery!" Behind him, Petunia, Lily's sister, stepped out primly. She very carefully tiptoed into the water as if it was molten lava and stopped by my son. Making a face as if she was readying herself for something revolting, she detached the bundle from the thorny plant and picked up the fabric containing him with only her thumb and forefinger, holding him as far away from her as possible as if he was some sort of slug. 

"What is that?" Vernon remarked, wrinkling his nose. 

"That's my son," I explained. I reached out my hands. I begged, "Please, give him to me."

Petunia made a face. "Absolutely not! You'll make him like you, a _freak_!"

Vernon nodded in agreement. "We have to squash your influence right out of him."

"Time to put a stop," Petunia spat, shuddering, "to this _abnormality_."

She turned away, still holding the bundle at arm's length, heading back to Vernon. Vernon looked thoroughly revolted. "It's hideous," he remarked.

"I know," she replied matter-of-factly, "he'll be just like my sister and her husband. Filthy thing, isn't he?"

"For the love of everything good and just, give me my son!" I cried, trying to launch myself towards them but I couldn't move. 

They ignored me. They continued to walk into the forest. Vernon asked, "Where are we going to keep it?"

"I don't know," Petunia answered, shrugging, "The cupboard under the stairs is empty."

"Sounds good enough."

I flailed in the water, screaming at them to give me my son back, tears streaming down my face.

*** ***

I bolted awake. I had to stop them! I grabbed my glasses and hurried downstairs. Not only that, I had to save Sirius from those dementors. They were obviously dragging him to Azkaban by the looks of it. 

I ran madly through the kitchen, crashing into someone, who grabbed me in alarm. 

"You got to help me! My friend, Sirius, was taken by dementors to Azkaban and these horrid Muggles, my sister-in-law and her husband, took my son and I need to save him quickly and..."

"Wait! Who was taken to Azkaban by dementors?"

"Sirius Black, my friend. But I can save him later. I need to save my son..."

"From the Dursleys?"

"Yes and..." I paused and finally saw who was talking. It was Sirius who looked a cross between confused and highly amused. 

"And I got taken away by dementors?" he asked, smiling. I held my head, shaking away sleep. I felt very disoriented. "I'm still here, James, so that's not true." He took a step back and looked me over. "And you were going to launch a rescue party in your pajama bottoms?"

I looked down at myself. I was only wearing the pants I wear to bed. I didn't have a shirt on. I didn't have any socks on and I didn't have any shoes. I did look pretty ridiculous. Sirius, on the other hand, was fully dressed and clean. There was breakfast being prepared around him. "When did you get up?"

"Two hours ago. I thought you were going to be up at the crack of dawn like some kid at Christmas and drag me out of bed so I made sure I got up before you could do bodily harm. But you had a lie-in instead so I made breakfast."

"Thanks," I said. I couldn't help the feeling I was supposed to be doing something. 

"But I'd recommend getting showered and dressed first."

"Why?"

"Because Remus and Peter are going to be here in about five minutes and I don't think either of you want them to see you half-naked."

"Five minutes?!" Growling, I ran up the stairs and took a quick shower and dressed myself at top speed. When I was half-way dressed, it hit me. My son was born this morning! I could go visit now. "What time is it, Sirius?" I hollered down.

"10:45," Peter's voice yelled back. 

I continued dressing myself as I hurried down the stairs. "Can we visit Lily and the baby now?" I asked, excited. 

"You're finally awake," Sirius replied. "I was wondering when the 'little kid at Christmas' personality would take over."

"Is it visiting hours yet?"

"Yes, it is but we can't go yet."

"Why not?" I whined. 

"We're waiting for Remus," Peter explained. 

"His mum has to get him out of bed. He was sleeping when I called," Sirius added. 

"What's he sleeping for?" I demanded. 

"Eat something, James," Sirius ordered as Peter pointed importantly to a chair. I slammed into it as Sirius handed me a plate. "Anyway, he didn't get home until one o'clock in the morning, according to his mother."

"He can catch up!"

"That's rather unfair," Peter remarked. "We don't have to rush out of here. Lily isn't going to run away."

I bounced impatiently in my seat as Peter helped himself to some breakfast, explaining that he had just woken up himself. 

"You're not eating," Sirius commented. "Eat."

"What are you, my nanny?" I snapped. "Where's Remus?"

"Probably getting into the shower," Sirius answered. "You can eat while we all wait."

"I'm not hungry," I explained, "I'm too excited."

"If you don't eat," Peter said, swallowing, "Lily will know. It's a little known fact that all mothers have a special sensor that tells them when anyone has not eaten breakfast, done their homework, had enough sleep, and important things like that. Since Lily is a new mother, she will sense you not eating breakfast and we will all get a motherly lecture." Sirius started cracking up. "Oh, and godmothers, too. Let's not forget them."

"You're right about that. I swear," Sirius said, sitting down and helping himself and me to food, "Clarissa was psychic or something. She just _knew_."

"My mother is the same way, that's how I know," Peter replied. 

After a few moments of quiet chewing, there was a pop and Remus, his hair still wet, stormed in. "I hate customs officials," he growled.

"Good morning, Remus," Sirius answered, sarcastically. "You're certainly chipper."

"Sit down, Remus, we're having breakfast," Peter said, nodding at the empty chair. 

"Unless you just want to go," I suggested, grinning.

"He doesn't," Sirius interrupted. "Eat your food. We're not leaving until you eat all that," he ordered, pointing at my still-full plate of breakfast.

"So, we've gathered that you hate customs officials," Peter prompted. Remus dragged the chair away from the table and began filling his plate with food angrily. 

"Well, I went to customs and I told them that I lost my license when they checked for it. But the girl said she didn't have it. But she told me that some other official might be able to help me. So, I waited and I waited. I finally got him but he couldn't help but this other official might be able to help me." 

"How many officials did you get through?" I asked.

"Oh, no," Remus answered bitterly, "I haven't reached the good part. So, after three officials, they ask me to describe any special markings. Well, I wanted it back so I said, 'Well, it states that I'm a werewolf if that helps.' Of _course_, their attitude completely changes from bad to worse. Why was I leaving in such a hurry? Where was I going? Where was I coming from? What is my business in the country? How did I learn Apparation in the first place? Was I registered?"

"Well, obviously, you're registered!" Sirius interrupted, "no one just puts 'werewolf' on it just for kicks!"

Remus growled. "It took hours upon hours. Finally, they take me to the official who monitors Tradable Creatures going in and out of the country, the final humiliation! Anyway, of course, he doesn't know what to do and I had to wait with him for hours. They finally came back to tell me that I didn't need to visit this idiot and oh, by the way, whoops, the license on the desk of the first person I went to!"

"So, that was at one?" Peter asked.

"Yes, that was at one. Oh, those people are lucky it's not closer to the full moon or they wouldn't be completely healthy right now." Remus sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't get your message. My mum was trying to tell me as I headed to bed but I told her to be quiet, I was too tired."

Sirius tapped his fork against the plate slowly before saying, "So, that's Remus. Where were you exactly, Peter?"

"Oh," Peter explained, "I had to go shopping for food. I was in the store, walking down the aisle and guess who I ran into?"

"Snape?" Remus suggested. Peter shook his head. 

"Whetstone?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Celestina Warbeck?" Sirius wondered. 

"Blithe, the violist," Peter answered. "So, we got to talking and we went out for drinks. I didn't return home until one o'clock myself. I saw the post but I thought it was bills or something so I didn't bother looking at them. I'm really sorry."

"You better be!" Sirius replied melodramatically, "I was left all alone with only a cigar-smoking crazy man to make fun of by myself."

"What?" the rest of us stammered.

"There was this old man smoking cigars in the waiting room. Apparently his daughter was in there and he was a mess. The nurses kept coming by, telling him to put it out but he wouldn't listen. So, I took out my wand and doused it and every other one he lit. He was ready to kill me by the time his grand-daughter was born." He sighed. "I wish I had asked Marguerite to come to St. Mungo's to wait with me but oh, well. At least she got a full night's sleep. I'm seeing her today at four," he explained to Remus and Peter, who nodded in understanding. 

I slammed my fork down on my empty plate. "Look, all gone," I exclaimed. "Let's go."

*** ***

"Good morning, starshine... the earth says 'hellooooo'..." Sirius sang as we all covered our ears. Sirius is horribly tone-deaf. Furthermore, he looked pretty silly, skipping and twirling through the hall as he sang. 

"Sirius! Please, don't sing that song!" Remus cried. "I hate that song."

"Fine," Sirius said confidently, "I won't." He continued walking down the hall of St. Mungo's near the area where an orderly said we would find the window where all the babies were kept. As we all removed our hands, Sirius sang again, "Let the sunshine... leeeeet the sunshine in... the suuuuunshiiine iiiinnn..."

"AAA! That's even worse!" Remus yelled as Sirius laughed. "No selections from 'Hair'!"

"My boooody is flooooating through spaaaace..." Sirius sang as Remus ran up to him to bat him on the head. 

"That's still a song from 'Hair'!"

"What you would prefer me to sing, then?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing would be gr..."

"I'm nothing without you, walking hand in haaaand..."

"Stop! I hate that song, too!"

"There it is!" I cried, seeing the long window. I pushed through Sirius and Remus, breaking them apart, and pressed my face against the window like a Quidditch fan when a new broom in showed in the store display case, except the drool. "Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?" I asked frantically. "I can't read the names!"

"James," Sirius said quietly, tapping me on the shoulder, "before your heart explodes from stress, why don't you move so Remus can see? Remus has 30/20 vision, after all."

"Oh, yeah," I muttered, walking reluctantly away from the window. Remus stepped forward and scanned the rows of squirming babies. 

"There," he said, pointing at one baby. We gathered around him, trying to see where the finger was pointing to. "Fourth row, third baby on the left." The baby himself could not be seen as he was covered in swaddling blankets. He didn't appear to be moving.

"He's not moving," I remarked, "is that bad?"

"He's probably sleeping," Peter answered. 

As Peter spoke, a nurse came in and grabbed the carrier that my son was in, rolling him away. "Hey!" I yelled. "Where's he going? Bring him back!" I began knocking on the glass slightly. Remus grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

"He's probably going to Lily's room. We'll see him there. Why don't we head there?"

"Well, before we go," Sirius said, "I was wondering if you picked a godfather yet."

Actually, I had decided a long time ago but I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings by blurting it out. "Well, I thought I'd tell the person privately..."

"Oh, I understand, you picked Remus and you don't want Peter or me to feel bad, right?"

I was gobsmacked. "Uh, no, I didn't actually pick Remus. No offense, Remus."

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "I'd pick Remus if I were you. He's dependable, he's a nice bloke, he gets along well with people, he's got good morals when it's convenient..."

"He's strong and good at protecting others, he's considerate, he has a steady job usually," Peter added, ticking them off on his fingers. "I'd pick him too."

"I don't usually have a steady job!" Remus objected. "Besides, what court would let me take him if something happened?"

"Well," Sirius argued, "Elliot got little Clarissa just fine and he wasn't named legal guardian by the parents. Not that we know who the parents are but still."

"But I bet they were really reluctant to actually let him."

"Yes, but in the end, they let him. So, you can too."

"This is irrelevant because James didn't pick me, did he?" Remus snapped.

"That's right," I said slowly, "but he was my second choice in case the godfather refused or died or something."

"It's not me, is it?" Peter squeaked. 

"No, Peter, it's not. Why are you so scared?" I wondered.

"I can't handle kids. I mean, once they're six years old, I have no problems but any younger and I freak out."

"Anyway, I picked Sirius as the godfather."

Sirius blinked bemusedly at me. "But why?"

"What do you mean, 'but why?' Why not?"

"James, I am the most irresponsible one of us here, I've lost my job more than Remus has and he has his excuse for losing them; I don't, I'm the most insensitive person to walk the planet, I have no morals under any conditions, and I'm better at playing with little kids than raising them. I'm probably the worst choice here."

"I don't think you're that bad, Sirius," I answered. "I mean, I thought about this a long time when I was bed-ridden awhile back. See, I thought about what a godfather needs to do. When the parents are alive, they provide moral support. Lily always says that being a good parent is more than a good job or a house, it's about loving and caring about the child, you know? Well, I thought about that and I think Sirius could drum up enough moral and emotional support during a crisis. Even though Remus can do that too and so can Peter. But what really decided it for me, what made Remus second-choice rather than first-choice, is that I feel that Sirius understands what the role of godparent really means because he was _raised_ by his godmother. Now, people didn't think Clarissa Tapp could raise a kid on her own and they even took her to court about it but in the end, she did a pretty decent job, better than some I could say. I think I know why: because she loved Sirius and knew that she had been given this honor by his parents and she couldn't prove their judgement false after they had placed that faith in her. She wasn't the richest or brightest woman on the planet, she had problems that she had to overcome but that didn't make a difference. And I think that Sirius' parents knew that when they decided to make Clarissa the legal guardian in the event of their deaths. So, I've decided that too and I'm appointing Sirius as the godfather and legal guardian in case our deaths."

There was dead silence after I stopped talking. I looked around anxiously at the three of them. Finally, Peter sniffled, "That was beautiful."

"I didn't realize you had put so much thought into it," Remus remarked, stunned. 

"Did you write that in advance or something?" Sirius asked. 

"No!" I answered. "I mean it and I'm serious. You understand what this means to me, as a parent," I added firmly. "As your friend."

"Don't guilt trip me into agreeing! I was going to say 'yes' anyway, I just think it's a weird decision."

"Was Clarissa a weird decision?"

"I guess so."

"Was she a bad legal guardian?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Then what's the problem?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, it's your decision. You're going to regret it, you know."

I smiled at him and shook my head. "Nah. I know you too well."

*** ***

After navigating our way to Lily's room, I rapped smartly on the door. 

"I'm awake," Lily called sweetly if a bit weakly as well. I entered the room and grinned at her. She frowned. "You fainted."

"I know," I admitted bashfully.

"You had a look of horror and you _fainted_ at the very sight of your newborn son."

"Don't rub it in. I wasn't quite expecting his appearance." I walked over to her side as she rolled her eyes. Remus and Peter asked Sirius to verify that I had fainted which they all had a good chuckle over at my expense. I ignored them and kissed my wife on the forehead. "How are you?"

"A little weary and a bit blue," she answered, smiling, "but they say it's normal. I should be fine." Lily still looked a little worn-out but there was a definite light shining in her eyes. "Have we decided on a name yet?"

"Um... well, I was thinking..."

"Look who's here!" Remus announced as a nurse rolled the baby into the room by Lily's bed. We all lightly cheered upon his arrival. I leaned over to take a better look at my son. He was seven pounds and his face was red as if he got sunburned. His eyes were shut and his body was wrapped in white linens. He looked much better now that he was clean.

"Do you want to hold him?" the nurse asked. I nodded. She smiled and came over to show me the fine art of holding a baby. Feeling very awkward and on display, I fumbled around for a few minutes before finally managing to hold him comfortably. Lily hummed softly to show her approval of the scene. We grinned at each other and I looked at our son. After a few moments, the nurse asked if we still needed her but we told her no so she reminded Lily to call if anything happened and left. 

"So, I assume the baby was rescued from the evil Dursleys?" Sirius joked. Everyone else but me expressed confusion at such a weird statement so I told about my dream from beginning to end. By the end, we couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

"Peter is little Percy's pet now!" Sirius exclaimed. "How embarrassing."

"Never mind that! What happened to my _hand_?" Peter replied. 

"You didn't seem to mind much," I added. 

"Certainly bothered Sirius in the dream though," Remus remarked, then mimicked Sirius, " 'How dare you cut off your finger!'"

"Doesn't anyone else think it's rather odd that James can interact with himself as Prongs?" Lily asked light-hearted. "And that Vernon can shoot him? I don't even think Vernon has a rifle."

"Prongs died and Wormtail became a pet!" Sirius cried dramatically. "What are the Marauders coming to?"

"Let's not forget Padfoot getting dragged to Azkaban by dementors," Remus added. "Moony lives on to fight another day!"

"What is it with people dreaming about me going to Azkaban with dementors?" Sirius scoffed. 

"That's the first time I've dreamt about it," I said.

"My dad used to have a recurring nightmare about me being in Azkaban with dementors. I would cry out for his help and he would search the entire place trying to find me. Sometimes he would find me, sometimes he wouldn't. Sometimes I'd be dead, sometimes I'd be eaten away by animals, sometimes I would be an old, half-crazed skeletal man, stuff like that. He used to wake up screaming and he'd run into my room and shake me awake to make sure I was okay."

"Aw, that must have been awful," Lily moaned. 

"That's because they were talking about dementors being part of Azkaban back then. And now they're talking about it again. Simple as that," Remus explained. 

"They won't do it," Peter commented. "They'll talk about it but they won't actually do it. The dementors won't stick to one place, everyone knows that."

"And we won't let my sister and her husband take our son, James," Lily said. "We have our godparents lined up, don't we? No one would even consider it if something happened."

"And nothing will happen," Remus added. "Who's the godmother?"

"Olivia Longbottom. I'm Neville's godmother, for your information. He's such a cute little baby." Lily stroked our son's face, and added, "But not as cute as mine."

"Hello," Mrs. Pettigrew called from the door with the Lupins trailing behind her. "Can we come in?"

"Yes, please do," Lily answered. The three parents bustled in as Sirius crossed the room to the window to add space. 

"Oh, Lily, he's so beautiful," Mrs. Lupin remarked, smiling. Mr. Lupin nodded his agreement. The Lupins are a quiet couple, saying only what was necessary. Mrs. Pettigrew is a chatterbox and began talking quickly. 

Mrs. Pettigrew had raised Peter alone since he was two years old. Mr. Pettigrew had simply walked out the door one morning and never returned. Mrs. Pettigrew had been frantic with worry and a search commenced but no luck. Mr. Pettigrew had simply vanished into thin air. The police assumed him dead.

He wasn't as dead as most thought. He had become bored with his humdrum life with his wife and young child and had left for Scotland, never looking back. He didn't want to deal with the long, boring process of legal divorce so he reasoned that fake death was a good way to cut ties. It would have worked longer if his girlfriend, eleven years later, had not wanted to visit Hogsmeade on a Hogwarts Hogsmeade weekend. It was then that Peter spotted his "dead" father walking around town. He explained the story to us quickly and we worked together to surround him and catch him. We were caught by the local authorities (for assault) and the truth came out. Mrs. Pettigrew was summoned and she was furiously angry at her estranged husband of eleven years. The girlfriend was furious as well. She had known none of this and he had even told her that his "young wife and child" had died eleven years ago, probably in order to gain her sympathy. Mrs. Pettigrew divorced her husband and the girlfriend left him. As far as we know, Mr. Pettigrew really died two years after we left Hogwarts, alone and penniless. On an ironic note, the girlfriend actually became very good friends with Mrs. Pettigrew and Peter (neither blamed her for what happened) and her children (she did marry a guy who had not faked his own death) are currently having vocal and piano lessons taught by Mrs. Pettigrew. Out of habit, people continue to call her "Mrs. Pettigrew".

"Oh, babies are wondrous things, aren't they? I remember when Peter was born, such a happy day for me! I'll never forget it!" Mrs. Pettigrew sighed and clasped her hands together. 

"I remember when Remus was born," Mrs. Lupin said nostalgically. "I was sitting outside, watching Mary's children play in the back garden. Mary had to take me St. Mungo's because you were at work," she explained to her husband. "Remus was very quick. Not even two hours. I believe it was one hour and fifty minutes. Ah, he was a precious baby."

"Oh, Peter took four hours. I remember it very well. Geoffrey was excited at the time and he rented a car for the due week. Pity Geoffrey didn't know how to drive," Mrs. Pettigrew commented solemnly. "Lucky he crashed on the way home or Peter wouldn't be here today." She patted Peter on the shoulder, smiling. Peter gave her a rather disturbed look but he probably thought better of asking for details. 

"Hello," my mother called softly from the door. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Mother," I answered. She walked in carefully, smiling brightly. "It's a boy."

"I know. How are you two?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Lily replied and I nodded to show that I was good as well. 

"Abigail," Mrs. Lupin greeted, "how wonderful to see you. It's been ages."

"Hello, Elizabeth. Is Remus home yet?" 

"Yes, here I am," Remus answered, waving his hand slightly. 

"We were just discussing when our children were born," Mrs. Pettigrew interrupted brightly. 

"Oh, well, James was very difficult. I'm glad I delivered at home, I don't think James would've lived through the trauma of me traveling anywhere. He was so small, only four pounds at full term. I barely saw him for the first two weeks of his life."

"Oh," Mrs. Lupin answered, bringing her hand to her mouth, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. James pulled through and now he's a father of a perfect and healthy baby boy of his own."

"I wonder how Sirius was delivered," Mrs. Pettigrew remarked. We all looked at Sirius but he was staring out the window, not paying attention. 

"Sirius?" I said, trying to catch his attention. He jumped and turned his head to face the room in confusion. "Did Clarissa ever tell you about your birth?"

"Oh, my mum went into labor while she was delivering a presentation about some constellation. I was born slightly ahead of schedule. Aunt Clarissa had a blast though, she thought my birth was fun. She was twelve at the time so she remembered it pretty well." He shrugged to say that that was all he knew. 

"Speaking of babies," Lily said, "what are we going to name him?"

"Well, I was thinking of naming him after my father, Harold, and James for his middle name," I answered brightly. Everyone seemed to like this except my mother. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think you should name your son after your father. It'll make him feel like a replacement, that's all." My mother frowned and added, "I would feel uncomfortable if he was named Harold. I was married to your father for so long, Harold means your father to me. I don't know if I would ever get used to it. I like the middle name though."

There was a long silence until Lily suggested, "How about Harry instead? It's from Harold but it's not actually Harold. How about that?"

We mulled it over. "Harry James Potter," Remus stated. 

"Doesn't sound bad," Peter commented. 

"Sirius, what do you think of Harry?" Remus asked. Sirius didn't look away from the window but answered, "Who's Harry?"

"The baby, silly," Mrs. Pettigrew replied. "What do you think of the name?"

"Sounds fine to me."

"I think that would be fine," my mother answered. I nodded.

"Then Harry James Potter it is," Lily concluded proudly. 

"Oh, dear," my mother gasped slightly, "look at the top of his head." Pulling the cloth slightly back, I saw what my mother had noticed. His entire head was covered in thick, black tufts of hair much like mine.

"Oh no," I muttered, "the charm worked through my gene pool. He's charmed as well now."

"It'll probably take generations to weed it out," my mother grumbled. 

"His eyes are blue. Lily, is there something you're not telling me?" I joked.

"All babies' eyes are blue. It'll change, I promise," Lily replied good-naturedly. 

"It better."

"What colour eyes will it have, do you think?" Mrs. Pettigrew asked. 

"Well, his choices are grey, brown, and hazel from our side of the family," my mother answered.

"And green and grey from my side. No blues on either side, I think," Lily replied. 

"Let's just hope he doesn't need glasses like I do," I sighed, "stupid little pieces of glass."

For over an hour, we discussed the baby and our plans for the future and slowly, one by one, the well-wishers left, leaving Lily, Sirius, and me behind with the baby. "You probably have things to do today," Lily said. 

"We do, unfortunately. No time like the present, huh?" I remarked. 

"I just want to relax for awhile, no offense but I'm still worn out."

"None taken. I'll visit tomorrow, is that alright?"

"Perfect." 

I gave her and Harry a kiss before calling out to Sirius, "Come on, we have a room to arrange and you have a date to keep." Sirius muttered something to himself but got up and followed me out the door. 

"Congratulations, you two," he said to Lily and Harry as he walked out.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Because this is nineteenth chapter, this is the longest fic I've ever written! It's beaten "Inner Child" which is finished at 18 chapters! I loved writing that dream sequence. I have been planning that dream for a very long time and now I finally got to write it in a chapter, yay! I'm so glad I finally have Harry born and named because I was sick of trying to get around his name and gender! I mean, we all knew who the baby was going to be! Originally, I planned Mr. Pettigrew to just be dead but I added the whole running away and faking his own death just to be funny. Yes, it's supposed to be funny, not scary. I need reviews! I need them very much! I want reviews! Please press the review button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com with comments and questions! See ya later!


	20. Giveth and Taketh Away

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty: Giveth and Taketh Away

Slightly closing the door to give Lily some privacy, we walked to the main entrance. When we were a corridor away, Sirius suddenly asked, "Say, James, Harry was born on July 31st, right?"

"Uh, yes, of course. Why?"

"Isn't Halloween nine months ago?" Sirius turned his head over his shoulder and grinned slyly. "What happened on Halloween?"

I stopped cold and my breath caught in my throat. I could feel my face burning up. Now that he mentioned it, it was the only date that made sense. For weeks before, we had barely seen each other. Either one of us was working late, we were both working late, one of us wasn't "in the mood" when the other was, or neither of us was. On the day of the Ministry Halloween party, we barely spoke as we got ready, barely registering what the other was doing. When we got to the party, we separated briefly for ten minutes. After that, we sat down on chairs along the walls, right next each other, not even looking at each other. Suddenly, Lily turned to me to comment on something and I turned my head towards her to listen when our eyes met. It was like meeting for the first time. It felt like I had never noticed how beautiful she was before and perhaps she was thinking the same thing about me because her voice just died away. We stared at each other, taking each other in as the temperature seemed to rise sharply in the room. Without words, we collectively decided that we had to go home that very instant or explode. Without even telling anyone that we were leaving, we both Apparated home. Once we both arrived home, we ran upstairs, leaving a trail of clothes behind us. Yup, _no_ other day made sense.

"Yeah, I think that was it," I managed to choke out. 

"Oh, yuck!" Sirius shivered. "Just got a mental image. Ew!" He shook his hair as if to shake out the bad thoughts. 

"Come on, you sicko, we have a baby's room to finish up," I ordered, continuing on. "And you have a date still."

"Ugh," Sirius moaned, "the suspense is killing me. Why couldn't've she just said last night? It better not be something really dumb."

"You never know," I answered, shrugging. 

A few corridors later, Sirius stopped and I nearly crashed into the back of him from walking mindlessly. "Say, is that Marguerite?" he asked.

"Do you have her on the brain or something? Is every woman you see Marguerite?" I demanded.

"No, really. Look." I moved so I could see around Sirius and it did look like Marguerite. Marguerite was in a perpendicular corridor to ours, wearing what appeared to a white hospital gown. She was looking around the place in a sort of daze. Her hair was messed up, like she had just woken up. "What is she doing here?" Before I could ask to explain what was the matter with her, he glided over to her and touched her shoulder. She jumped in alarm and he smiled. "Hey, what are you doing here? Is that new outfit?" Her grey eyes opened wide and she trembled with apparent fright. "We were supposed to meet at four, weren't we? At your house?"

"Sirius," I suggested gently, not wanting to startle Marguerite, "I think there's something wrong."

Marguerite seemed to want to get away from Sirius, to which he frowned. "Marguerite, what's wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?" He moved closer to touch her face but she pushed him away. 

"Who are you?" she cried frightfully.

"Sirius," he answered slowly, confused, "Sirius Black. Your fiancé. Marguerite, what's going on?"

She shook her head madly. "I don't understand."

"You don't understand what?"

"Who are you?"

"Sirius Black. You know me, we're engaged, remember?" She shook her head. "Is this some sort of practical joke?"

"I don't get it!"

"You don't get what?" Sirius demanded frantically. 

"I don't know!" she cried tearfully, putting her face in her hands. "I don't know where I am, who you are, who I am, or anything!"

Sirius looked at me to see if I knew what was going on but I shook my head and backed away. I didn't know anything either. Sirius turned back to Marguerite and said softly, "It's alright. You're in St. Mungo's Hospital. Were you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

"I don't know!"

"Okay, okay. Just be calm, everything is going to be alright now. I'll fetch a doctor for you, let me just take your hand..." 

But Marguerite didn't want Sirius anywhere near her. When he brushed her elbow, she launched herself backwards and screamed in his face, "Don't touch me!"

"What is the matter with you?" he demanded, stepping towards her.

"Stay away!"

"I just want you to calm…"

She broke into tears again, thrusting her face into her hands again, shaking her head madly. It was then I noticed that she had on a hospital bracelet. Before I could call his attention to it, a team of doctors and nurses ran down the hall. 

"You!" a middle-aged nurse shouted, pointing at Sirius, "stay away from her!"

"I'm just trying to help," he explained. Marguerite continued to cry as the group gathered around her. 

"It's alright, dear," an elderly doctor said soothingly, "no one is going to hurt you."

Marguerite raised her face from her hands and looked around her. Finally, she shrieked, "Who are you people?!"

They appeared stunned at her reaction. "Marguerite," one nurse about her age replied, "we're the nurses here. We work with you." Marguerite shook her head madly and tried to back out of the circle formed around her. 

"I don't know any of you. You're all strangers," Marguerite muttered in a frightened tone. 

"No, Marguerite, we're your friends. We want to help you," the young woman replied. "We're going to take you back to your room."

"No," Marguerite squeaked. Apparently fed up, a nurse grabbed Marguerite's arm. The scene dissolved into complete pandemonium with a lot of pulling and screaming. Finally, a doctor ran on to the scene: Doctor Harvey. "What is going on here?"

The middle-aged nurse released her hold on one of the younger nurses and answered, "Miss Malina escaped from her room and was wandering the corridors when she was attacked by this man!" She pointed to Sirius.

"I wasn't attacking her!" he objected. "She just became upset for no reason!"

"Are you Sirius Black?" Doctor Harvey asked. "Hello, James," he greeted, turning to me, "how are you?"

"Fine," I answered meekly. 

"Yes, I'm Sirius Black!" Sirius snapped. "What is the matter with Marguerite?"

"We were just about to find out. Now that she is awake, we can find out even faster." He turned to Marguerite, who was still shivering from fright. "Miss Malina, which is you by the way, we want to help you and you need to go back to your room. No one, not even this man, Mr. Black, is going to hurt you. Do you know who I am?" Marguerite shook her head. "I'm Doctor Harvey."

"Who am I?" Marguerite asked. Sirius made some sort of weird noise in his throat and the nurses looked horrified.

"Your name is Marguerite Malina." He paused to give Marguerite time to digest that. She repeated her name to him slowly, unconfidently. "You are twenty-four years old." She nodded to show that she had understood her age. "We should take you back to your room for some tests."

"Can I come?" Sirius blurted out. Doctor Harvey seemed to think about it carefully before nodding to show his assent. Doctor Harvey took Marguerite's hand gently and led her to the "Dark Arts Treatment" wing. Several of the nurses and doctors drifted away until a small group of nurses and two other doctors followed Doctor Harvey, Marguerite, Sirius, and me. 

When we reached her room, Doctor Harvey told us that regulations stated that we had to wait outside (since we were not related by blood or marriage) so he Conjured chairs for us to sit on as the medical team and Marguerite went inside. I sat but Sirius was a bundle of energy and spent his waiting moving from sitting to standing to pacing and then back to awkwardly sitting to start the process all over again. We must have waited for an hour in total silence besides Sirius' half mutters under his breath before Doctor Harvey emerged.

"May I ask you what relationship you have with Miss Malina?" he asked.

"We're engaged," Sirius answered. "Why?"

Doctor Harvey nodded like the old childhood doctors did during my physical examinations. It was a bad sort of nod but I wasn't sure if Sirius was aware of the difference between a regular nod and a "this is very grave" nod. 

"I would like to speak to you privately," he said and then added, "There is, of course, no reason for Mr. Potter to stay. He may leave if he wishes to do so."

"I'll stay," I answered.

"Follow me to my office. Mr. Potter may wait outside while we… discuss Miss Malina's condition."

We followed him to his office and Doctor Harvey opened the door for Sirius who looked at me and then at him uncertainly. I gave him a quick reassuring smile but Doctor Harvey merely indicated the room. From what I could see before he closed the door, it was very well decorated and he had many honors and awards on the walls. It snapped shut and I was alone in the hallway.

I don't know how long I waited. There was no doubt in my mind that she had been the victim of a Death Eater attack but why the secrecy? Doctors never usually made a huge effort to hide the fact. Was something else wrong? The amnesia was obvious but there was no need to drag Sirius alone into his office to discuss it. And what had caused the amnesia anyway? I was hoping that Sirius would tell me when he emerged.

The door was thrust open and Sirius stalked out forcefully. "Mr. Black," Doctor Harvey called, running out after him. "you really should get your bearings and have a moment to just calm down."

Sirius turned around to face him and said with obviously forced calm, "I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm going home."

"Just sit a moment, it's okay to be upset, it's perfectly natural."

"I'm fine," Sirius snapped. "I'm going home. Come on, James."

"Well, okay," I reluctantly agreed, getting up from my chair. 

"Mr. Black, I really think…" Doctor Harvey pleaded. 

"I am going home," Sirius answered forcefully. With that, he turned on his foot and headed to the Apparation point. 

Doctor Harvey looked at me and ordered, "Watch him. He might do something rash." I nodded and trotted after Sirius, who was speed walking away from me.

"Sirius," I asked gently, "what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Sirius snapped and added harshly, "I don't want to talk about it to Remus or Peter either, understand?"

If it had been in another situation or another person, I would told him to shove it but the look on his face, especially his eyes, made me agree. Friend or foe made little difference to Sirius at this point. 

When we Apparated home, Sirius slammed himself on the couch, stretched out his arms over the back and glared at my fireplace. I, not wanting to test him, stayed in the kitchen, pacing around. Comforting others is not a strong skill of mine. I like to add reason to a situation but actual comfort is beyond my range. Sirius said nothing as he stared at the wall. He didn't even move or twitch. He just stared in breathtaking silence. As each minute passed, I grew more and more uneasy. I opened up cupboards in a vain search for something I could do. I wasn't hungry, not with this lead mound in my stomach. I considered making tea but the calming tea of the Tapp Family had a slight problem. The fact that it was a secret kind of made it hard for someone to make if they weren't privy to the secret. I had no hot chocolate left and I definitely wasn't in the mood for coffee. Finally, I stood in my kitchen, staring at the cupboards as if the paneling could tell me what to do.

And Sirius merely stared at my fireplace in silence.

*** ***

The last time I had seen him drop this low was when Clarissa died. It was a beautiful day to just hang out in. All four of us had met for a meal and were talking over future plans, present events, and past histories. It was a very good time for us back then. Admittedly, Lord Voldemort was running around killing people but for our little world, life was good. Sirius had even broken up with Gertrude, whom we all had hated, after he caught her cheating on him. 

Around four, Sirius remembered an alteration that he had cast on the motorbike, which he _had_ to show us. His bike was back at his complex so we all headed back to his flat to get his key. When we were heading up to his door, his neighbour was talking to someone in a nurse's uniform.

"Oh, never mind," she was saying, "that's him there." The neighbour pointed at Sirius and the nurse turned around. 

"Well, hello," Sirius greeted merrily as he went to unlock his door. "How may I help you?"

"Um… I'm from St. Mungo's. Are you Sirius Black?" the nurse asked. She was very young, probably right out of Hogwarts with blonde hair tied up behind her in a ponytail. 

"Yes, I am."

"Are you related to a Miss Clarissa Tapp?"

"That's right. I'm her nephew."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that your aunt has suffered an accident. She passed away an hour ago."

We all gasped in shock. Sirius had just seen her right before he came to meet us. He literally came from her house to the fountain in town. Finally, Sirius answered, "Okay, good joke, I nearly believed it" and proceeded to unlock his door.

"Um, sir, I'm not joking."

Sirius sighed. "Which one of you hired her?"

We all looked at each other to see if this was, in fact, a prank. All of us shook our heads at each other. "Sirius," Remus answered, "we didn't hire this girl."

"He's right, sir. I'm very sorry but your aunt has passed on."

"Look," Sirius replied, unlocking the door finally, "people just don't drop dead. Especially if they're thirty-six years old."

"I'm sorry but it's true."

"She's not dead," he restated, entering the flat, "I just saw her. She was in perfect health."

"Sir, your aunt is no longer living. I'm sorry but you have to..."

"For the last time, she's not dead!" 

"Are you Sirius Black? Spelled S-I-R-I-U-S space B-L-A-C-K?" Sirius nodded. "Is your aunt Clarissa Tapp? Spelled C-L-A-R-I-S-S-A space T-A-P-P?" Sirius nodded. "Then I'm at the right place. I'm terribly sorry."

"There must be some mistake," Sirius remarked. "She's not dead."

"Sirius," Peter said softly, "I think she may be right. I think Clarissa's gone."

"No, she's not," Sirius replied. He swept over to his telephone and picked up the receiver. "And I'll prove it. I'm calling her now." He dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up. We could all faintly hear the phone ring again and again and again. "Must be on the toilet," he explained, smiling weakly. We all stood there in silence, waiting, hoping that Clarissa would just pick up but we all knew she wouldn't. Sirius could have waited forever and she would never pick up. 

After five minutes, the nurse finally walked over, put a gentle hand on his upper arm and said softly, "Sir, come on. I'm going to take you to St. Mungo's. Your aunt is there."

"She's not dead," Sirius repeated hollowly but he hung up the phone and we all went to St. Mungo's. 

We went to the ordinary Morgue, not the special Curse-related one that my father would be lying in five months later, where Clarissa, pale and stiff, lay on an examination table. The doctor there explained that the most likely cause was that she was going up the stairs, must've slipped, and fell backwards, splitting open her skull, where she suffered a hemorrhage. Elliot had found her but she had already been dead by then. Elliot was sitting there as well but he was silent and depressed. 

Sirius stared at Clarissa's face for a very long time. He held her cold hand the entire time, occasionally fixing her hair. Her eyes were closed, which gave the impression that she was sleeping. 

"I'm going home now," Sirius said suddenly, wrenching himself away, going towards the door. We tried to stop him, telling him that he should stay a minute, get over the initial shock. But he seemed to be in some sort of daze and just pushed us aside absent-mindedly. We all feared that Sirius had finally snapped. 

A few days later, we held the funeral. It was very modest, Clarissa wasn't rich and Sirius told us that she had forbidden him to use his parents' money for her funeral, but beautiful. My parents did not come but the Lupins and Mrs. Pettigrew came. Sirius had dressed Clarissa in her prized dress, which was entirely black with ivory buttons and fancy embroidery. "She always looked good dressed in black," he explained. Sirius gave a wonderful eulogy but he gripped the stand the entire time he spoke as if he was on the verge of falling apart. Clarissa managed to be buried next to her sister (who by strange irony was buried next to her husband). 

The day after, I called him to see how he was or if there was anything Lily and I could do. But apparently, he had put Blocker Powder in his fireplace because I couldn't get through. Days passed in which I contacted him by owls but he wouldn't answer. I found out that Remus and Peter were experiencing similar problems. 

After a week of no contact, we decided that we had to find out how Sirius was. So, we went to his place of work, only to find out that he hadn't been showing up. The previous day, the boss told us harshly, he had fired Sirius. Alarmed that Sirius probably hadn't seen the light of day in a week, we hurried to his flat. 

We knocked on the door. No answer. We knocked again. Nope. Finally, frustrated and being very close to the full moon, Remus pounded on the door with vigor until he was panting from exhaustion. Sirius made no indication that he heard us. Peter tried yelling to the door, demanding that Sirius open up. Sirius did no such thing. 

Right before we seriously tried blasting his door down, his neighbour emerged. "Do you want Sirius Black?" she asked. Exasperated, we all nodded. "Let me try something." She went inside but left the door open so we could see. Her two young children peered out at us and we smiled benignly at them. She picked up the telephone, dialed, and put the receiver to her ear. We could hear the phone in Sirius' flat ring. For a full minute, he let it ring. Finally, it stopped. "Hello! Sirius Black, hi, I was..." but she stopped, frowning. "He hung up." She dialed again but this time the phone did not ring inside. "He's left it off the hook." She shrugged. "Sorry."

But something caught Peter's attention. As Marauders, we all had special skills that we added to the group, without which we would all fail. Peter's talents included distraction ("Oh, Professor, could you explain that lesson one more time in this corridor? Oh, the light is blinding me, could we switch places? Thanks" as we moved in for the kill) and escape routes. Peter had this extraordinary talent to see where exits were in any room and how much an opening can reasonably hold. We once tried to test this by building boxes and matching blocks but each box and block was a millimeter different in size and then timed Peter to see how fast he could match the blocks to the boxes. He did it in record time and he never once screwed up; he got each block in its proper place the first time. Peter crossed into the room and opened the window. He stepped on to the fire escape and vanished from sight. A few seconds later, Sirius' door opened and Peter poked his head out. 

"Brilliant!" Remus cheered. "I never would have thought of that!"

We journeyed inside the flat and found Sirius lying on his bed, staring up the ceiling, spread-eagle. His bed was unmade and in disarray and the lights were off, making the room dim. He was wearing a simple tee-shirt and slacks but from their condition, he had slept in them. His eyes moved to see where the noise of our footsteps came from but he didn't move anything else. "How did you get in?"

"Window," Peter explained simply. "You really should lock that, you know."

"I've got nothing to be robbed of."

"You could be murdered in your sleep."

"Like anyone would care."

"We'd care!" Remus protested.

Sirius didn't answer at first but then said, "That's three."

"I'm sure there's plenty more."

"Name one."

"The landlord," I joked. Sirius didn't laugh. "Sirius, how long have you been sitting in your flat on your bed in the dark?"

"Honestly?" he asked.

"Honestly."

"Well, after the wake, I drank up the rest of the alcohol left over then went to bars, got drunk, woke up hung over on Saturday. Moped around my flat during Saturday and Sunday. Skipped work on Monday, went to bars, drank all day, got drunk, went home, woke up hung over. Stayed home, threw up all day on Tuesday. Skipped work on Wednesday, went to bars, got drunk, I remember going someplace with some woman but where or who, I can't remember, went home, woke up hung over. Received notice that I was fired on Thursday, went to bars, drank until I passed out, found myself in a weird place, found nearest bar, drank until I passed out again, escorted home by barmaid, went out to the local store, bought as much liquor as I could, took it home, drank until I passed out on my bed. Woke up, threw up, drank the remaining bottle that I bought last night this morning." He said all this in a very monotone voice, like Professor Binns did during his lectures. 

"So, basically," Peter answered, "you've been on a drinking binge since we last saw you."

"Where are the bottles?" I asked.

"In the bathroom," Sirius moaned. "Except this one," he added, holding up a bottle for a brand I didn't recognize. "But, never mind, move, I going to throw up again," he muttered as he staggered gracelessly to the toilet and shut the door. There were sounds of Sirius being violently sick.

"Sirius, this isn't healthy," Remus commented. "You can't go on like this."

"Yes, I can," Sirius replied weakly from behind the door. 

"Sirius," Remus said softly, crouching next to the closed door, "I know you're upset. I understand."

"No, you don't! Your parents are still alive! Along with your other relatives!" Sirius screamed back.

"I meant that I understand why you're so upset. I know how close you and Clarissa were. It was a terrible shock for all of us. I don't think Clarissa would like what you're doing. I don't think she would like you sitting alone in the dark in your flat, drinking until you lose consciousness, and avoiding us. We want to help you. We're here for you."

"Think of it this way, Sirius," Peter suggested, "if you were the one who had passed on and she was the one still alive, would you want her to do this sort of stuff?"

"No," Sirius feebly whined. 

"Then why would she?" Peter remarked. 

"Come on, Sirius," I said, "I'll make some coffee for you if you're not going to throw up anymore."

"And while we're waiting for the coffee," Remus added, "we'll help clean you and your flat up. Hate to say this, but you smell really bad and your flat is not smelling any better."

The door creaked open and Sirius held on to the door jam for support but he was vaguely smiling. "I'd like that but I'm warning you, you're going to be absolutely horrified at how many bottles I managed to fit into my bathtub and sink."

*** ***

But, I must restate, Sirius had very few lows in his life. Most problems took a deep breath and the straightening of shoulders to handle. Previously, except for Clarissa's death, Sirius was the strong, sturdy one to which no problem was earth-shattering. 

But certainly not now. It was like a dementor had sucked out his soul since that morning, leaving a shell behind. For an hour, Sirius sat and I frittered in silence. Suddenly, Sirius asked, "Do you believe in divine justice?"

The question was so out of the blue that I jumped. His voice was strange, hollow, flat. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think there's some thing that's counting everything you do and when the tally gets too high or low, this thing does something to balance it all out?"

"I guess so. I believe that good people get rewarded in the end and bad people are punished."

There was another silence before Sirius asked, "Do you think Remus is still mad about the Whomping Willow thing?"

"Sirius, forgive me, but that was more than a 'thing'. Snape could've died."

*** ***

During our sixth year, after the ball with Kate but before news of her pregnancy was known, Snape was getting _really_ annoying about where Remus went each month. Whetstone had dropped the whole matter during second year but still continued to antagonize him anyway. But Snape was obsessed with finding out. 

One night, in January, Peter had to serve a detention (unjustly, of course) that ended in the middle of Remus' night as a wolf. Without Peter, none of us could hope to get inside to get Moony out. So we decided not to go out on our monthly jaunt.

We were sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, Sirius and I, working on homework. Well, I was working on homework; he was sitting next to his homework, occasionally giggling for no seen reason. When Peter returned, exhausted, it was during one of his giggling spells. Fed up, I asked Sirius what was so funny.

"Oh, I've just played the most marvelous joke on Snape," he answered. 

"What?" we asked, feeling left out. 

"Well, curiosity killed the cat, that's all I'm going to say." 

Finally, we badgered it out of him. Sirius, being a completely heartless moron, told Snape that if he was so curious about Remus' monthly absence, then he should prod the knot on the Whomping Willow and see what happens. Sirius thought that Snape would never do such a stupid thing and thus we could be free to torment him. And if he tried, the branches would pummel him black and blue. Sirius was roaring with laughter by the time he finished explaining. Peter and I looked at each other and at least I knew that I had never seen Peter look that horrified. I'm pretty sure I didn't look much different. 

"Sirius!" I whispered but wanted to scream, "are you completely insane?! Do you know what will happen if Snape goes down? Do you? Did you even think about that?"

"He won't go down, James."

"Yes, he will. Because he's Snape and he'd love the opportunity to expel us but this might just end up getting him killed!" Without waiting for Sirius' answer, I ran out of the Common Room, down to the grounds, down to the Willow. Across the field, I saw Snape prod the knot, look at the entrance, and, shrugging, crawl inside. By the time I reached it, the Willow was active again and it nearly knocked my brains out. After many attempts, I managed to prod the knot myself and quickly crawled inside.

The tunnel is built very low and dark which made it hard to run. Several times I tripped over my own feet. As I neared the Shrieking Shack, where Remus spent his moons as Moony officially, I could hear him pacing around the Shack, scratching all the wood around him, growling. 

I caught up with Snape only to find him opening the trap door to the Shack above. He climbed up the ladder to see what was inside the building and I quickly ran up to him and climbed the ladder next to him. He didn't notice me; he was too busy being completely stunned by the gigantic werewolf prowling the Shack. Snape had caught Moony's attention. I've never heard of a werewolf on a diet. 

Snape screamed as Moony lunged towards us but I managed to pull Snape down to the ground. We fell to the ground with a thud. Moony's head, to his annoyance, would not fit the opening of the door. He swept his massive foreleg down through the hole and swiped at us with his long, sharp claws. Snape screamed again and I'll admit it, I screamed pretty loud too. When Moony drew his leg back, I quickly grabbed Snape by the collar and pulled him out of the vicinity until he possessed enough mind to run himself. 

We ran the entire distance from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts quicker than I had believed possible. We scrambled out of the Willow, ran from the Willow itself, and stood panting on the grass. We were both shaking from adrenaline. 

"What... was... that?" Snape demanded breathlessly, his eyes wide. 

"A werewolf," I answered. No point lying about it. 

"Was that what your friend Black wanted to show me? Is that Remus Lupin in there, the blood-thirsty Dark Creature? Were you in on it? Get cold feet, Potter? Realized that what you three have done is attempted murder and I could very well call the authorities?!"

"You shut up! I just saved your stupid life and..."

"Damn it," Snape said, not looking at me but up at the castle. I turned around to follow his line of vision up to a lighted window where Whetstone and Peter were standing. Whetstone was looking at us and waving smugly while Peter just looked stunned. "He knew," Snape muttered. He then became enraged, screaming, "He _knew_! He knew this entire time and let me go anyway! Why didn't he just _tell_ me?! The little son of hag's slave, I'm going to kill him!"

"I think Filch has beat you to it," I answered, seeing him come up behind them, slamming one hand on each shoulder. I could see them frantically trying to explain but Filch had seen us and I could see him exclaim and point a finger at us. 

Within minutes, we were in Dumbledore's office: Peter, Whetstone, Snape, and I. We all spent the night in his office, waiting for Remus to change back. When morning came, feeling vengeful, Peter and I explained that the whole idea had been Sirius' and he should be here as well. Dumbledore summoned Sirius who suddenly found his joke a lot less funny. Remus arrived soon after Sirius, obviously not well after the night before but he was clearly confused of what was going on.

"Remus," Dumbledore asked, "do you remember anything from last night?"

"No, sir."

"A student tried to enter the Shrieking Shack by way of the Whomping Willow."

Remus immediately swung his head towards us, his eyes scanning for injury or bite marks. "Did I hurt him?"

"No, only because your friend, Mr. Potter, caught up with him and pulled him out. But, as far as I know, it was very close to becoming a serious crime." Dumbledore paused for Remus to answer but Remus remained silent. "Do you have any idea who tried to see to you?" Remus shook his head. "Do you know who gave this person the information on how to get to you?" Remus shook his head. "Perhaps your peers would like to answer my questions."

"I went into your hiding place," Snape answered coldly, "and I nearly died because of you. I think I'll leave the informant to speak for himself."

"It was just a joke," Sirius answered meekly, staring into his clasped hands in his lap. "I didn't think he'd really do it."

Remus was utterly speechless, trembling in fury and betrayal. "A joke?" he stammered softly, at a loss. "I could have killed Snape, Sirius. They would have sent me to the Department for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, tried me, find me guilty, and make me ingest raw wolfbane plant, which would kill me. I would be dead at age sixteen. All that for a stupid _joke_? At _my_ expense?!" With a roar, Remus jumped on Sirius and began pounding him fiercely with his fists, screaming about how much Sirius had betrayed him for the sake of a laugh. Peter and I tried to pull Remus off Sirius but Remus was simply too strong. Dumbledore finally had to Accio Remus off Sirius. 

"In light of this serious violation of school and _moral_ rules of conduct, I will hand out the following punishments: Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Oliver Whetstone, you three may go free since you had nothing to do with this. Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Whetstone were trying to find help when they were out of their Common Rooms and Mr. Lupin was the victim of this entire affair. Severus Snape and James Potter, since you both were out of bounds, you will serve a detention together next week."

"But I saved..." I protested.

Dumbledore stared harshly at me. "You will serve a detention together next week, is that clear?" I nodded. "Severus Snape, I would request that you tell no others about Mr. Lupin's condition. It is none of their concern." Snape frowned briefly but nodded anyway. "Sirius Black, since you orchestrated this entire debacle, you will spend the rest of the year, these next four months, starting in February, in detention. Furthermore, you will lose your privileges to go to Hogsmeade this year. Also, I am taking away one hundred House points from Gryffindor for your actions. However, I will grant Gryffindor ten points for moral duty on Mr. Potter's part. Next, you will write a letter, in my presence, to your guardian, explaining what you have done. Finally, when Mr. Snape files his case against Mr. Lupin," he paused to look at Snape and added quietly, "You are sure you insist?"

"Of course, I insist! I was nearly eaten by a Dark Creature!" Snape shouted. Remus shuddered at the words "dark creature".

Dumbledore sighed gravely and continued, "When Mr. Snape files his case, and Mr. Lupin is brought in to be tried, I am going to write to the Department and tell them what part you played in this and I will request that you testify. Rest assured, Mr. Black; at most, you will get nothing but a fine for your behavior, and I doubt you will even receive that. This is for Mr. Lupin's benefit, not my own." Looking extremely disappointed and sad, he added, "You are all dismissed. Return to your Common Rooms. Remus, you must return to the Hospital Wing to rest, I'm afraid."

Mumbling thanks, we all left the office. Once we were in the corridors, 

Whetstone said defiantly to Sirius, "If I had been Dumbledore, I would have expelled you." 

Snape turned to Whetstone and demanded as if he had been waiting forever to ask, "How did you know?"

"About?" Whetstone replied.

"How did you know that he," Snape indicated Remus, "was a werewolf?"

"I put the pieces together, did some research," Whetstone answered blandly. "Very simple really. I thought you would have more sense than that, Severus."

"Then why didn't you tell the entire school and rub it in my face?" Remus demanded. 

Whetstone looked Remus straight in the eye. "Because, Lupin, if I'm going to prove myself better than you, I want to prove it through my own strength, not your weaknesses." I guess that was the closest I had ever seen Whetstone show some sense of fair play. With a scoff, Whetstone turned toward the direction of the Slytherin Common Room with Snape glaring at us as he followed behind. 

After that, Remus and Sirius weren't as close. It took over three months for them to be comfortable with each other's presence. Eventually, on the surface, it seemed like nothing had changed. But if you knew them like I did and if you looked carefully, you saw the damage. Sirius may have said sorry to Snape and Remus may have pledged forgiveness to Sirius but it was only their mouths talking. 

*** ***

"Yeah, but do you think so?" Sirius asked hollowly.

"I can't really say." Peter and I decided early on not to act as their go-betweens. It wasn't worth it. 

There was another long silence where Sirius barely breathed. Then, "Hey, James. I think I know why Marguerite wanted to meet with her." 

"Why?" I asked. 

Sirius gave a short bark of a laugh. It was very eerie. "It's very funny considering what happened."

"It is?" I was getting worried. His voice creeped me out. 

There was a long pause as if Sirius had momentarily forgotten what he was about to say. But then he seemed to remember and answered in a woozy sort of voice, "She was pregnant." He laughed. The laugh sent chills down my spine. It was not his usual laughter when something particularly delightful or funny happened but it was more half-crazed and out-of-control as if his entire world fallen apart overnight. 

"Congratulations," I replied hesitantly.

Breathing hard, he replied, "Don't bother. I said 'was' not 'is'." I felt my heart stop and gasped. He continued in a half-mad way, "Do you know what happens if you Stun a pregnant woman? Well, I didn't until today. She miscarried last night when the Death Eaters came. They came at eight o'clock. She was almost three months pregnant, she found out right after I proposed." He muttered softly to himself in astonishment, "She was carrying our baby when I proposed."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm so very sorry."

"He told me there's evidence of a Memory charm but it isn't strong enough to produce what we saw. It's all psychological, he told me," he rattled on, "all psychological. Her body doesn't want her to remember the trauma so she forgets," Sirius made an all-encompassing gesture weakly with his hands, "everything." He began to laugh again but it was a crying sort of laugh, dancing on the edge between mirth and tears. He placed his hands on his face and shook at first with crying laughter and then with real tears and gut-wrenching moans. I was speechless and felt powerless against this catastrophe. After five minutes, Sirius pulled himself up and declared, "This day is over. I'm going to bed." I just watched him go upstairs. A few moments later, I heard him cry out in a strangled scream and a loud thud. 

Panicked, I ran upstairs to see what had happened. As soon as I stepped into the room, I realized what had happened. Sirius' bed was in the baby's room, which was decorated with baby things. A few little details still needed to be added but anyone could tell it was a baby's room. If Lily had miscarried and I had walked into the room, I probably would've wanted to kill myself. Sirius, his emotional state already in splinters, had fainted from emotional exhaustion. Luckily, his head had landed on a pillow thrown on the ground so he had no injury. Taking pity on him, I moved his bed and him out of the room into the other, bare, spare room. 

Once he was in bed, I went back downstairs. I was beginning to feel hungry and decided I had to eat. It was now three o'clock and I made myself and Sirius sandwiches. In silence, I ate my late lunch and sat contemplating what had just happened. When the clock reached four o'clock, I thought on what should have been happening. 

Sirius would have gone to Marguerite's home. She would have told him about the baby. They would most likely have had a long discussion about what they planned to do. Of course, Sirius would have wanted to keep it; he loved Marguerite and I don't think he would have objected to a family of his own. They would have had a plan in mind and Sirius would have come back here. I would have been tidying up the house and finishing up the baby's room or listening to the wireless or reading. He would have told me about Marguerite and the baby and I would have been delighted. Then we would have called Remus and Peter and we would all gone out to celebrate Harry's birth and Marguerite's pregnancy. We would have come home happily silly drunk and would have gone to bed without a single care. 

It would have been so nice. But that wasn't the way it was. 

I felt a surge of rage towards the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort for ruining such a beautiful version of life. Even the joy of Harry's birth had become tainted with this mess. It felt so strange to be so overwhelmingly happy and yet also so unbearably sad all at once. 

When Sirius did not come down at five, I went upstairs to the spare room. I found him still asleep so I left the sandwich and a glass of water on the floor near the bed. I paused a moment to look at him sleeping. At that moment, I wanted more than ever for Clarissa to still be alive. I wanted to be able to call her up and say, "Clarissa, this is James, it's a problem with Sirius because Marguerite had a terrible accident. I'll explain when you get here but he needs your help" so she'd come rushing in like a Florence Nightingale and fuss over Sirius and make everything better. But I couldn't bring her back and she couldn't help Sirius from beyond the grave. 

I had never felt so useless. 

Having stared at Sirius long enough, I left the room and shut the door. I went to the baby's unfinished room, laid on the rug on the carpet, and stared up at the ceiling for a long, long time.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Sorry this chapter is such a downer, guys. The good times were too good to last, you knew that. Yes, this has been planned as well for a very long time. Don't go on drinking binges! That's not good for your health! Anyway, that's my take on the Whomping Willow incident which drove Snape to madness in the third book. Oh, there's another "Do You Want to Play?" reference in here. I'm starting to hit a wall though, I haven't planned much farther than this. I have scenes in mind but no order and I still have gaps. We'll see if I can manage to wrap this up before the fifth book comes out! Tell me what you think! I'm very interested to know! Either use the review button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com and remember to leave your e-mail so I can contact you. See ya later!


	21. Kaddish

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-one: Kaddish

I can't remember how or when I actually went to bed but I found myself waking up in my own bedroom the next morning. I got up and readied myself to face the world. Once I was clean and dressed, I headed downstairs to look to see if Sirius had even left his room. There was no sign of him I noticed sadly. He was probably still locked up in his new room. Sighing, I made myself breakfast, leaving some aside for him in case he decided to come down. 

Half-way through my small breakfast, my fire began to flash white. I had set it to flash instead of just letting the person talk since the night of Lily's labor. I bent over to the fire and a head of a balding man with long silver whiskers and glasses with thick square rims popped up.

"Hello," I said, "may I ask who is calling?"

"Yes," the man replied with thick voice. He reminded me of a walrus, to be honest. "My name is Doctor Greenling. Does Sirius Black live at your residence?"

"Yes, he does. But I'm afraid I have no idea who you are or what you want with him. Do you mind explaining?"

"Oh, of course! Perfectly understandable! I was the..." he paused as if realizing that he might have nearly said the wrong thing or too much. He coughed and started again, "I was a... friend of the Blacks when he, Sirius, was a small boy. I just heard what had happened to his fiancée."

"Oh," I replied, wondering what this had to do with anything and just how he found out.

"Yes, yes, very tragic, if I do say so myself. Well, I was just... curious on how he is. Where is he exactly?"

"Having a lie-in," I half-lied. True, he was still sleeping (I think) but not exactly having what one would call a proper "lie-in". 

"Ah, I understand," he replied, nodding sagely. "Well, since I was the... very close friend with his parents, I wanted to make sure he was okay. You see, I'm a psychiatrist. I just thought that if he needed my services, then, well... you understand. He can just call me up. No problem at all. He needn't feel embarrassed."

"Well," I answered nervously, "I'll tell him. It's Doctor Greenling, right?"

"Precisely. He knows who I am. He can call anytime, anytime at all."

"Alright, then. I'll just let you go."

"Yes, yes, I have other patients to work with today. Just tell him that my door is open."

"Good-bye, Doctor," I concluded, cutting off the connection. Shaking my head, I wondered what _that_ was all about. The Blacks must have had some odd friends. I thought briefly on how they must have made his acquaintance. I glanced at the clock and realized that it was time to visit Lily again to my delight. I took Sirius' portion of breakfast upstairs to his room and opened the door.

Sirius was still buried under the covers. His dinner from the night before had been picked at and the water was half-gone. I set the new food down on the ground again and watched Sirius to see if he was awake. He was much too stiff to be truly asleep so I said, "I'm going to visit Lily now." I paused to allow Sirius to respond. He didn't. I continued, "You can come if you want." No reply. Sighing, I concluded, "Fine. You can stay here. There's food here for you. I don't know when I'll be back." I waited to see if Sirius would make any sign that he had heard me but he did nothing. "See you later, Sirius."

*** ***

There is something unbelievably peaceful about the maternity section of any hospital. It's one of the only places where people are there for a good reason. There is nothing to cure, nothing to stitch up, no one to diagnose, nothing bad. Just happy mothers and cute babies. 

Feeling rather proud of myself because I was starting to get used to the idea of being a father, I half-wanted to announce to everyone walking by, "Hey, guess where I'm going? The maternity section to visit my wife and my son, Harry. Yes, I'm just amazing." 

When I reached Lily's room, she was talking to Harry softly. I knocked lightly on the door and she looked up at me and smiled. "How're my two favorite people?" I asked brightly. 

"Good. I just fed Harry," Lily told me as I walked in. "He's sleeping right now." I came over to sit on the bed next to her to stare at Harry's face.

"He's looking much better," I said. She nodded. "Can I hold him a bit?" She handed him gently over to me as if she loathed to let him go. I carefully cradled him in my arms. He wriggled slightly but didn't wake up. "He's so tiny," I remarked. 

"I know. He seemed so big when he was inside me," Lily joked. She smiled and leaned her head on my shoulder. "He's lovely, isn't he?"

"Yeah. You think we can hope that his hair will all fall out and grow back in like yours?" I asked.

"I like him the way he is."

"I know. He's wonderful." I grunted, "But he's getting heavy."

"Put him back in there. If his day is anything like yesterday, he's going to heaved around all day. Poor thing." She stroked his head. "But he likes his mummy best, doesn't he? Yes, he does. And Mummy wants to hold him more than everyone else. Yes, she does," she cooed in a light voice. I gently placed him back in the plastic carrier with his name on it. I sat back down on the bed and we stared at him for a few moments. "Oh, he's so precious. I was feeding him this morning and I looked down at him and it suddenly occurred to me that I was his mummy. He was _my_ son, no one else's. It was a wonderful feeling."

"I'm beginning to feel like that too," I told her. "I'm starting to get used to the idea of being a father, though. He's so tiny," I repeated. I kissed her on the forehead. "So," I asked, changing the subject slightly, "who came yesterday?"

"Oh, well, I called everyone after you two left and most of them came by. Let's see, the Longbottoms came, Mrs. Figg, my co-workers, the Weasleys came by, the Boneses, and lots of others are coming today as well. Oh, yeah," Lily added darkly, "my parents came too."

"Oh, dear," I replied sarcastically, "I have a feeling their visit was a treat."

"At least they didn't come with Petunia and Vernon or I would have jumped out the window."

"Why did you call them?"

Lily shrugged. "Stupidity. I forgot how annoying my mum can be so I arranged for one of those charm-blockers so they could come. Remind me not to do that again the next time we have a kid."

I played with her hair and asked, "So, how was the visit?"

"Oh, the usual. Compared Harry and Dudley every step of the way. Not to mention comparing me and Petunia, comparing the two hospitals, comparing just about everything she could think of."

"How did she compare Harry to Dudley?"

"Harry is 'much too small', according to her. Dudley was a 'healthy' ten pounds while Harry is a 'scrawny' seven pounds. Dudley had perfect complexion while Harry is 'much too red'. Dudley had the finest, softest blond hair when he was born while Harry has 'too coarse black hair'. I hate it when she compares us and now Harry has to endure it too!"

"Harry is wonderful," I reminded her. 

"I know but she thinks that Dudley is so much more 'robust'. She told me that Harry's small size is 'very worrisome' in her eyes. Doctor Laurel said that seven pounds is a perfectly fine birth weight..."

"Then it is. Who cares what your mother thinks? Personally, I find Harry to be the lovelier of the two, so just forget it. What did your father say?"

"Daddy agreed with my mum. He said that Harry was too small."

I rolled my eyes in frustration. "What is the matter with your parents? What do they have against Harry anyway?"

"Beats me. I told you this would happen. Dudley was first and therefore he's perfect."

"Dudley? Perfect? He looks like a beach ball! At least Harry looks like a proper baby." 

"Yes, he does," Lily agreed, straightening herself up to show that she was not to be beaten by Petunia. "_He_'s perfect." We nodded and smiled. "Well," Lily amended, "they did admit that Harry was cute. They just think bigger babies are better babies."

"He'll grow," I stated. "At least he's not ill like I was. They have to give him that."

I brought Harry closer to us and Lily adjusted his blankets, terrified that he might get cold even in the summer warmth. "Say, where is Sirius?" she asked.

I gulped. I suddenly remembered why Sirius had been lying in bed since the afternoon before. I had to say why even though it was a horrible tale. "Well, you see..."

"Hey! How's the new mummy?" Sirius called excitedly from the door. I jumped in surprise. I wondered if I had wandered into an alternative dimension. Sirius was smiling broadly, clean and dressed, carrying three bouquets of flowers in his arms. 

"I'm great," Lily answered, not noticing my confusion. "Are all those for me?"

"No, just one, sorry," Sirius explained, walking into the room. "I've got other recipients in mind. Where should I put yours?"

"Oh, anywhere," she replied, gesturing to all the cards, gifts, balloons, and numerous flowers around her. "We were just talking about you."

"Were you?" Sirius answered but I could tell that he was not surprised. He must have heard us speaking before entering the room. 

"Yes, I was asking where you were. I wanted to know if you ever found out what Marguerite wanted."

I stiffened and Sirius gave a tiny shudder, which Lily did not see as she turned to Harry who had smacked his lips but did not wake up. "Well," he laughed, "I never did find out."

"No?"

"You see, I fell asleep as soon as I got home. Isn't that right, James?"

I blinked. He gave me a look that told me that I better agree. "Uh, yes."

"That's right. I just sat on the couch, closed my eyes for a minute and the next thing I knew, it was seven o'clock. James had tried everything to wake me up, didn't you, James?"

"Uh, yeah, everything."

"Marguerite was furious. I hope to make peace with her today. She's the other recipient. I was just on my way there but I decided to stop by for a minute to chat." Sirius smiled but I could now see that it was a fake smile. 

"But you have three. Who's the other...?" Lily asked but Sirius waved her off.

"It doesn't matter. How are you and Harry doing?"

Lily told him how she was, how healthy Harry seemed, and who came to visit. After a few minutes, a woman came in, smiling, greeting Lily. It was one of Lily's co-workers, stopping by to give her congratulations. Sirius took this opportunity to say he had to move on and I told Lily that I better be heading home but I would be back. Lily accepted this and continued to gush about Harry to the co-worker.

*** ***

After we were definitely out of earshot, Sirius' happy expression was wiped off and his dark look was back. He turned to me and demanded, "You were going to tell her what happened, weren't you?"

"Well, yes, I was."

He rolled his eyes as if I was a complete moron. "What is the _matter_ with you? Can't you let people have a moment's peace?"

"I don't see why I can't..."

"_I don't want people to know_," he answered sharply. "It isn't any of their business. If I had my way, _you_ wouldn't even know right now, alright?"

"Lily isn't going to think less of you if she knows. She's your friend, Sirius."

Sirius raised his eyes upward as if silently asking for divine intervention. "Look, I am not going to rain on her parade. She's so happy and at peace. I want her to believe that the universe revolves around her and Harry for a little longer, okay? I'm not going to burst her bubble over my problems. I don't have the right to do that and neither do you."

"Sirius, it's okay to be upset..."

"Look!" Sirius snapped, "I don't want to hear it. Just leave it alone. It's my problem, I'll deal with it."

I said nothing more. We continued walking through the corridors, Sirius leading, I following. Why I didn't just go home, I'm not sure. Perhaps I was secretly very worried about him. If the roles had been reversed, and they often were before, I know that Sirius would have not accepted me telling him to leave the issue alone. He would have _insisted_ that I let him help with whatever the matter was. 

Now that I was thinking about it as we walked, I realized that this was true for everyone he knew. Me, Peter, Remus, Lily, Marguerite, he wanted to help us all. But I had never heard him ask for help himself. Okay, yes, he asked for the occasional "can I look off of as in cheat off of your homework ten minutes before class starts" type of help but real problems, real _serious_ problems, he never asked. 

Before, I thought he just never had such problems but what he said just then made me pause. If he had his way, I wouldn't even know. How many times in the past did he have his way? How many problems did he have that we were oblivious to? Maybe the death of his parents bothered him more than it appeared. Maybe living in Quesera had been a thorn in his side. Maybe it was really difficult to be raised by such a person as Clarissa. And he never once mentioned Mabel Weasley or his connection to her suicide. How many times had he not wanted to "rain on our parades"? 

When it came down to it, Remus, Peter, and I had someone, somewhere to depend on. By then, we still had those supporters for our causes. Even my father, who I hadn't spoken to in six years, stood up for me. But Sirius never had that support. As I walked beside him, feeling farther away than I had ever felt before, I wondered who was ready to catch him if he fell.

Who took care of Sirius?

*** ***

"Where are we going, Sirius?" I finally asked since I didn't want to pace the hospital all day.

"Where do you think?" He answered harshly back.

I bit back an angry reply and said, "I don't know."

"Marguerite's room. I want to see how she is," he said softly. 

We walked to her room in silence and I watched Sirius prepare himself. It was like watching a stage actor warm up. I could almost hear him muttering in his mind, "I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy…" It was sickening and I had to look away. 

By the time we reached her room, he appeared as he did when he entered Lily's room, like he didn't have a care and this was a leisurely visit. He stood by the door and waited. When there was no sound, he knocked lightly. "Come in," Marguerite answered.

We entered the room and found Marguerite in bed. There were flowers and get well cards and balloons surrounding her bed. She looked up at us blankly without recognition.

"Hi," Sirius said awkwardly.

"Hello," Marguerite replied in a tone usually reserved for those you meet on a train before turning back to your magazine. She cocked her head to one side and asked, "Do I know you?"

Sirius brightened. "Yes, you do."

There was a pause as Marguerite tried to place a name with Sirius' face. Finally, she answered, "You're the man from yesterday."

His face fell. That wasn't the answer he was looking for. "Yes," he admitted sadly, "I'm the man from yesterday. But I know you from somewhere else."

"Oh? Well, see, I can't remember anything beyond yesterday. The doctor--what's his name?--said I have amnesia. That means I can't remember anything," she explained as if only the select few of the universe were allowed to know what amnesia meant. 

"I know, that's why I came to visit," Sirius explained. "How are you?"

"Fine," she answered off-handedly. She blinked at him again and looked questioningly. "So, how do we know each other then?"

"We're engaged," Sirius answered. Marguerite looked at her left hand, where the engagement ring was. 

"Is this yours?" she asked, pointing to it.

"Well, I gave it to you."

"Do you want it back?" Sirius didn't answer. Marguerite sighed. "So, what's your name?"

"Sirius Black."

"Well, Mr. Sirius Black, I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday," she concluded as if that was the only reason he had come. 

"Um…" Sirius said embarrassed, "I brought you flowers. Would you like me to put them somewhere?" Marguerite shrugged. Sirius paced around for a bit before deciding to put them near the window. "They're Coleur-Du-Soleil," he added once he had placed them down. 

Marguerite merely replied, "Oh. That's nice."

"They change colour every hour."

"Oh."

"They're your favorite type of flower," he explained in desperation. 

"They are? Oh. Well, then, thanks for remembering because I sure don't." Marguerite laughed. Sirius made a weak attempt but it was pained. Marguerite turned to look at me. "Are we engaged too?"

"Uh, no. I'm Sirius' friend. My name is James Potter."

"Do we know each other?"

"We've met once or twice."

"Oh. That's nice."

"His wife just had a baby boy," Sirius added. "Her name is Lily and the baby is Harry."

"James, Lily, and Harry Potter," she said slowly. "And I, Marguerite Malina, am engaged to Sirius Black. Oh, how am I ever going to remember all these people?" she cried in frustration. 

"I'm sure everything will come back," I replied hopefully. 

"I'm not," she answered. She turned back to Sirius. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-five years old," he replied. 

"Do I know your parents?"

"No. They died when I was six. Long before we met. However, your sister is married to my cousin. That's how we met."

"How does my sister and your cousin affect how we met?" she inquired.

"We met at their wedding," Sirius explained. "Has your sister come to visit?"

"Yes but I don't remember her name. It was very brief."

Sirius muttered something under his breath. I believe it was "typical". Before anyone could speak again, a nurse with blonde curly hair done up in a ponytail rushed in with a zipped up lunch bag. It was the younger nurse from yesterday, the one who had explained that the nurses were Marguerite's co-workers. 

"Hey, Marguerite, remember my name yet?" she asked breathlessly.

She shook her head. "Nope."

"It's Rachel Stronghold. Anyway, I have a brilliant..." she trailed off, looking around her. "Oh, sorry, you have guests. Sorry."

"It's okay," Sirius answered. "What's brilliant?"

"Well," she explained excitedly, smiling, "I think I have a way for Marguerite to help remember people and their names." She unzipped the cube-like bag and took out a Muggle Polaroid camera. "Ta-da!"

"What is it?" Marguerite asked, sitting up to take a better look.

"It's a camera. The Muggle kind, obviously. See, you can make flashcards. Every time someone visits, you just take their picture and there's a strip on the bottom when it comes out. When it's all dry, you can write the name on the back of the strip and practice names!"

"That's a really good idea," I commented. 

"Do you want your pictures taken?" Rachel asked, bouncing up and down. We nodded. Rachel did Sirius first against a bare white wall near the window. She took the picture and ordered me against the wall. She took my picture and finally, she stood against the wall and Sirius took hers. The pictures quickly (although not as quick as Wizarding pictures) dried and the still image was revealed. "Now, we'll write our names on the back of the strip with this black marker," she concluded, holding up a marker from the bag. "Instant flashcards!" Once we wrote our names, Rachel handed the photos to Marguerite along with the marker and camera. "Now," she said slightly disheartened, "you can practice. Makes things easier that way."

After saying a few kind words to Sirius (they had met before), she waved good-bye as she headed to work in another section of the hospital, promising to visit during lunch. We also said good-bye as Marguerite began to shuffle her three photos, scarcely noticing our exit.

*** ***

Once we had left Marguerite, Sirius resumed his true expression. He was clutching only one bouquet now. This bouquet had more than one type of flower in the batch, as opposed to Marguerite's Coleur-Du-Soleil and Lily's collection of day lilies. 

"What kinds of flowers do you have there?" I asked.

"Pink carnations, forget-me-nots, blue salvia, xeranthemums, zinnias, and dark crimson roses." He turned to me and added, "You _can_ go home, you know. You don't have to follow me around all day if you don't want to."

"No," I answered, "I'll stay with you."

He shrugged and walked rather than Apparated out of St. Mungo's. I didn't ask where we were going in case he'd find me too nosy and make me go home. We walked in complete silence a long time, for about an hour at a slow pace out of London. 

Just as I was about to ask where Sirius was going, I noticed my surroundings, which answered the question. We were heading towards a cemetery. The wind blew softly, ruffling our clothes. Sirius, not even bothering to check if I was still following, walked under the high iron gate; I had to hurry to catch up. 

As he walked through the rows, I felt a rush like cold water had been thrown on me. Yesterday had been July 31st, the first year anniversary of Clarissa's death. In the excitement, I had completely forgotten. At first, I wanted to criticize Sirius for forgetting as well but then I realized that he hadn't. I remembered his odd behavior when Mrs. Pettigrew, the Lupins, and my mother were standing around us, talking about Peter's, Remus' and my births and our future, standing off by the window like he was not included. I had thought at the time that he was just tired or saw something interesting outside, not realizing that the empty space must have felt so real and so inescapable at that moment. I wondered how it must have felt to be surrounded by family and having none of his own to share the moment with. And then the whole thing with Marguerite, no wonder he collapsed. 

He seemed to know his way without trying; obviously he had visited the grave before. Eyes straight ahead, body stiff, he walked like a guard to his post. I hadn't been there since the funeral so I followed awkwardly a few paces behind. Eventually, he turned a corner and walked languidly through the rows, counting each one until coming to a stop. He crouched down in front of the gravestone marked:

Clarissa Victoria Tapp

Born December 1, 1943

Died July 31, 1979

Beloved Daughter, Sister, Godmother, Friend

Do not weep for I will never leave

I am simply running faster than you can see

My image runs clearer than water through a sieve

But leaving, that shall never be

--Sonnet XXVI, Book XII of Avalon Collection of Poetry

To the left, there was another gravestone:

Janet Estelle Tapp Black

Born August 28, 1937

Died November 4, 1961

Beloved Daughter, Sister, Wife, Mother, Friend

Reach up high and crouch down low

Mix earth, water, fire, and sky then scatter it apart

Hear the chants, deep, dark, soft, slow

Paradise will provide what is in your heart

--Sonnet XI, Visions of Hidden Talents

To the left of that, there was yet another gravestone:

Roger Lucian Black

Born February 19, 1937

Died November 4, 1961

Beloved Son, Brother, Husband, Father, Friend

And the room brightened beyond endurance

Controller of the storm and the sun

But with a smile of assurance

A positive event was about to be done

--Letter MM, Collected Works Of Rome

There was already a bouquet of tea roses lying by Clarissa's grave, probably from Elliot from yesterday. Sirius placed the flowers standing up and leaned them against the stone. He placed his own bunch on the other side, standing up as well. For a split second, I thought she would suck them through the ground to hold them in her hands but they remained above ground.

He laid his hands on top of Clarissa's tombstone and placed his forehead against the stone. I moved away to look at without seeing other nearby tombstones. He began to talk to her:

"Sorry I'm so late. I had a lot going on. I know, that's silly. We always came to visit Mum and Dad no matter what but this... was different. I don't know how much you see up there, if you see anything at all. 

"Um... no one's bought your house yet. I check the papers and it's still listed. The neighbourhood must be spreading rumors that it's cursed or something. The price keeps dropping. Although, to be honest, it's not really your house anymore, it's that couple's, but I still think of it as our house. 

"James and Lily had their baby. It's a boy. They named it Harry after Harold, James' father. Do you talk to each other up there? James is the middle name but you probably already guessed that. He's got that black hair of James. Apparently the spell went right through to James' genes. I hope they don't have any girls because they might get that hair and that would be awful for them. Especially if it's red. That would be awful looking. 

"Okay, I know, I'm just talking around what I really want to say. I guess I should explain myself since I didn't come yesterday. Did I talk about Marguerite to you at Christmas? Yes, well, um, we dated for a really long time and I proposed to her and she said yes. I used my inheritance money. I felt sort of bad about using it but I felt that Mum and Dad would have helped out anyway. Maybe I'm just making excuses for myself. That happened in June and I was pretty happy about it. 

"And then July 30th happened. Everything's gone to hell now. She called me up, told me she had something important to tell me and we arranged to talk. We never did. Lily went into labor that night and I was in hospital all night waiting for Remus and Peter to come but they never did. I should have invited Marguerite to wait with me but I felt like being a gentleman and letting her sleep. Why did I do that, Clarissa? The one time I wasn't selfish, someone got hurt. 

"They came for her. Death Eaters came for her not ten minutes after I stopped speaking to her on the fire. They burned the Dark Mark on the wall of her kitchen, that's how they know the time, around eight o'clock. I was supposed to see her at nine. It was because I refused to join up. I realized that the other day, they asked me the third time about six months ago. Why did they go after her? She never did anything wrong. 

"But it gets worse. That thing that she wanted to talk about? She was pregnant, Clarissa. She was going to have a baby and she never got the chance to tell me. If I had known, if she had just _told_ me, I would have made her wait with me. She would be alright. The baby would've been alright. But they Stunned her and she miscarried. And because of the 'psychological trauma', quote end-quote, along with a mild Memory charm, she can't remember anything. She doesn't even know who I am!" Sirius choked up as if he was beginning to cry. "When I heard about all that, I went home and I didn't want to go anywhere or talk to anyone. Then I went into that baby's room and saw all those baby things littered all around room, I just couldn't take it anymore. 

"I woke up a little later in a different room, I think James moved me. I just laid there the rest of time, thinking and cursing everyone I could think of. I kept thinking about how you always used to tell me that I was the best thing that ever came out of my parents' marriage and how children are so precious and all that. I remembered how my parents were always so proud of me and loved me so much even as they hated each other. I mean, I know I never actively thought about having kids but it would've been nice. I can barely remember what that sort of 'parents with child' life is like. Actually, I guess I never really knew. We didn't exactly have the most stable family life. 

"It would alright if Marguerite remembered me. You know, then we could try to start over, build from that, get through it. I wouldn't be perfectly alright but I would be better than I am now. I went to visit her today. Do you know what it reminded me of? When you used to take me to St. Mungo's Insanity Ward and we'd visit the rest of Guildenstern's Children. I hated that. It frightened me every time yet you made me go with you. It always reminded me that you were a Guildenstern's Child too, that some crazy madman hurt you like that and you could have been worse. It was their expressions that always got me. Dead, blank stares. They would never remember you or me. They were like zombies. At least you had some awareness of the world and you had some life but those other Guildenstern's Children, you could have killed them and barely noticed the difference. It was like that all over again. That same blank stare, that same expression of neutral feeling. Even when she did show emotion, it was half of what it should have been. It was Guildenstern's Children all over again. 

"But I'm going to kill them, whoever they are. Once I find out who did it, I'm going to kill them with my bare hands. I always wanted to kill Guildenstern and I never got the chance but this time, I'm going to enforce justice with my own hands. He should have died for what he did to all of you, just like these men deserve to die. I'm going to kill them and I don't care what happens after that. They can just ship me off to Azkaban and let me rot, I don't care. It doesn't make a difference. I swear to you, I'm going to kill them. I'm going to make them understand what they did to me and Marguerite. I'm going to kill them. I'm going to _kill_ them. 

"This isn't _fair_.I hate this. I want you to be alive again and tell me that everything's fine like you always said right before those visits. I want you to be here and hug me and hold my hand and tell me what I'm supposed to do now. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. Please, come back to life and tell me where I'm supposed to go now. I have nothing left. Please. Please. Please. I need you here. Please, come back. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please..." he just repeating "please" over and over again, sobbing all the while, hanging on to Clarissa's gravestone tightly. 

I sat a little way off, trying not to notice him there, crying as if his soul was being ripped apart. Perhaps it was the acoustics of the place. Perhaps it was my own imagination. Or perhaps it was something much more incredible. Whatever the reason, I swore I heard three more voices sobbing along with him. 

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for that last bit. I was choking up myself as I wrote. The term "kaddish" (pronounced KAH-dish) is the Hebrew word for the Jewish prayer of mourning. From what I know, you're supposed to say the kaddish every day for a year after a death and then every year after that on the anniversary of the death. The only reason I even know about it is that one of our musical pieces in Band is called "Kaddish" and our conductor explained the meaning. The song did not inspire this scene but if you're madly interested, you can probably download it. I'm not saying Sirius is Jewish or anything, I just thought it was a cool word. The sources of the epitaphs are not real, I made them up as well as the poems themselves. In other happier news, I got into a class called New Dimensions. It's a humanities course worth two credits, one English and one Social Studies. It's a very selective class where you have to file an application and have an interview. After all that, less than half of people applying get in. But I got in and you can not believe how happy I was. I was telling everyone I know and some that I don't know. 

The flowers I picked (except Coleur-Du-Soleil of course) have meanings:

Day lily—Emblem of the mother

Pink carnation—I'll never forget you

Forget-me-not—True love, memories

Blue salvia—I think of you 

Xeranthemums—Eternity and immortality 

Zinnia—Thinking or in memory of an absent friend

Dark crimson rose—Mourning 

Tea rose—I'll remember always

Anyway, I would love a review or perhaps a better explanation of the term "kaddish" in case I missed a few details. Leave a review by clicking the button or e-mailing at destinyplot@lycos.com and make sure to leave your e-mail address so I can write back. See ya later!


	22. Coming Home

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-two: Coming Home

After Sirius had stopped wailing and used up an hour in dead silence, he got up slowly, and announced, "I feel better now."

"I'm glad," I croaked, my voice causing a shock in my throat after so much holding in emotion and silence.

He sighed contently. "It's always good to talk to Aunt Clarissa. I just had to get that out of my system. Let's go home, James. I'm done." Nodding, I rose to my feet, stiff from my awkward position. He patted the tombstone with his hand, promised to be back soon, and turned to leave the cemetery. Before I followed, I stopped in front of Clarissa's grave, nodded at it, and ran after him.

*** ***

Sirius kept to himself, much like someone recovering from a terrible bout of the flu. He spent a lot of his moments in silence but it was a calm silence. The worst was over. 

I spent my time visiting Lily and Harry or doing odd jobs here and there. Sirius helped me out usually or went job hunting. Whenever I visited Lily, he came along but only for a few moments, claiming one reason or another. He really went to visit Marguerite. The visits seemed to do Sirius some good. He said that although she couldn't remember him, she seemed to enjoy his visits. 

"Doctor Harvey wants everyone who knows her to help with her therapy," he explained one night. "So, I'm doing the best I can." It was Sirius' therapy as much as hers. Sirius only feels satisfied when he is doing something, _anything_. He doesn't like to sit idle. 

One night, as we ate dinner, I remembered Doctor Greenling. I had forgotten to tell Sirius about him so I mentioned the call.

Sirius' expression darkened. "Oh? Doctor Greenling?"

"Yes, he said he was a friend of your parents."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you could put it that way. Did he mention he's a psychiatrist?" I nodded. He laughed bitterly. "And he wanted to offer his services to me?"

"Yes," I answered. "Well, I mean, what happened is pretty awful. He probably has cases like that all the time."

"He's been dying to pick at my brain since I was two years old." He tutted. "I hate that man. He's the worst thing that ever happened to my parents."

"He didn't seem that bad," I replied. 

"You haven't seen him in action," Sirius answered. "See, when I was little, I had problems making friends at playschool. The kids were just meanies but my parents didn't believe me. So, they asked Doctor Greenling if he could figure out the problem." He stabbed a vegetable. "Of course, he had been dying to get his hands on me and my psyche since he met my parents. So, he does this weird test with me. Something with toys and people asking me questions about what I like and dislike."

"What was his conclusion?"

"Just about everything," he answered, then ticking off on his fingers, "I was becoming anti-social, depressed, hyperactive, and, to top it off, I was going to be gay."

I snorted with laughter. "You were supposed to be gay?!"

"I guess I grabbed a doll at the wrong time. Of course, it was all my parents' fault and they had better shape up or I would be dressing in drag and moving in a transvestite. My parents went out of their minds with worry about my mental health."

"What did they do?"

"I can't really remember. Finally, they listened to _me_ for a change and went to the school to see how the conditions were. They saw that the place was bad for me and transferred me out." He rolled his eyes. "I bet he probably thought that we're having a lurid affair and Lily and Marguerite were just our cover-ups."

"You really hate this Greenling," I answered, laughing.

"He said a lot of crap about my parents' relationship. He made it worse if anything. If they hadn't…" he slammed his mouth close for a second, took a breath, and added, "Anyway, I definitely don't need him. What did you say?"

"I just said I'd tell you."

"Good." He shuddered. "God! I hate him. Every time he sees me, he acts like I'm still five years old. I half-expect him to pat me on the head like he used to do. I never liked him, never in my entire life. Ugh, he makes my skin crawl."

"Sorry to bring him up."

"Don't be. He's like a clogged up drain. Sooner or later, it catches up with you." Sirius ate another clump of meat and added, "Speaking of catching up, I was thinking about Whetstone today."

"Whetstone? What for?" I asked. 

"He just popped into my head. Anyway, I was thinking about what happened the day we met up again, remember that?"

"When the beam nearly fell on his daughter?"

"And he had a fit about us being there? Well, I was also thinking about what happened with the Willow and I think I know why he had such a problem."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" I leaned back into my chair. "Is this leading up to a joke?"

"No," Sirius answered, waving his hands in front of him. "I'm being serious. Okay, remember what happened with Snape and the Willow?"

"How could I forget?"

"And Dumbledore explained that whole life bond thing to you during detention?"

"Yeah, so?"

"How do you get a life bond?"

"By saving someone's life."

"And...?" Sirius prompted.

"What do you mean 'and'? There's no 'and'. You save the person's life, they're bonded to you."

"You have to put your life in danger in order to save them," he answered slowly. "That's the clincher. It's not just saving a life, it's saving a life at the risk of your own."

"Is there a point to this? Should I be cashing in on Snape's debt or something?"

"No. Think about what happened the day we saw Whetstone and his kid. What happened?"

"You were there!"

"Just tell me."

I rolled my eyes but I told him, "We saw Whetstone with his daughter. We talked. He gave me a cryptic message. We walked apart. The scaffolding fell. Lily rushed to..." It dawned on me as Sirius nodded his head. "She rushed to save the little girl. Lily ran under the beam and saved Alyssa Whetstone."

"Exactly. An eight-month along pregnant woman ran under a falling beam to save a young kid. Whetstone's daughter."

"That means the girl bound to her now!"

"And your son through her. So's Snape, through you."

"Wow," I cried. "He's connected to two people who are bound to the Potter family. No wonder he was furious. He was ready to tear my throat out when he found out about Snape's life bond."

"Well, at least he sort of likes Lily."

"Yeah, but he hates me and through me, Harry. Life bonds are tricky things. If you don't help whoever you're bound to and you're in a position to help, doesn't your heart explode or something alone those lines?"

"It's not pleasant, that's all I know. He probably doesn't want to take any chances with his daughter. Just try not to save my life at the risk of your own, okay?"

"Puts a whole new light to his reaction," I concluded. I shuddered. "I'd hate to have Harry bound to someone like that. I would be terrified that something would happen and his heart would explode. Ugh. I don't even want to think about it."

*** ***

When Harry was deemed healthy enough to leave St. Mungo's and go home, I was madly excited. I arranged and re-arranged the room about ten times that morning. Sirius, having some presence of mind left, rented a car for driving Lily and Harry home in. 

At ten o'clock, a nurse wheeled Lily out of her room on a wheelchair as she carried Harry in her arms. His eyes, to my disappointment, had taken on my features: brown. To soothe myself, I noticed that his weren't as mucky-looking as mine. His seemed brighter, lighter, more like Lily's except for the colour. Besides, this meant that the child that had been haunting my dreams was just a nightmare. The boy in the dreams had green eyes and my son obviously had brown. 

"Why are you in a wheelchair?" I asked.

"Hospital policy. Can you get the presents and cards still in the room?" Lily requested meekly. Shrugging, I went to the room and gathered all the gifts, deflating balloons, and assorted toys in an empty sack and walked back to Lily, who was still waiting in her wheelchair. "Want to push me?"

"Sure, anything." I pushed Lily to the tiny parking lot where Sirius was waiting by the car. She clapped with delight as Sirius indicated a baby seat that he had borrowed from Lawrence's family. 

"They're not going anywhere today," he explained as she attempted to strap Harry in. "I have to give it back though."

"Well, we don't even have a car so it's not like we need one," Lily replied. "I think that'll do it. Do you think it's too tight or too loose?"

"He looks pretty secure," I commented. Lily sat in the backseat with Harry as I sat took the front beside Sirius, who was driving because I don't know how. "Now, don't drive too fast and try to avoid potholes," I told Sirius. Sirius gave me an evil grin.

Lily leaned forward to hiss into Sirius' ear, "We mean it!"

"I wasn't going to do anything," Sirius answered. "Say, James, want to take a spin like Peter's dad?" 

"Keep talking like that and I'll be driving and we'll leave you here to _walk_ back," Lily growled as she buckled her seat belt. Chuckling, he turned the car on. 

*** ***

Sirius managed to avoid potholes and breaking speed limits (or maybe he tried to but failed) the entire way as Lily and I continually checked Harry over. Harry slept. Seeing that Harry was able to survive his first encounter with the world outside the hospital, we felt pretty confident.

Once we arrived home, we took out Harry gently in case we would hurt him. This took ten minutes in all. Within the first minute, Sirius gave up on us and headed inside as we debated on how to remove Harry without turning him into a Squib. But we proved ourselves worthy of carrying our own child unaided out of a car and into a house.

Still wrapped in blankets, we carried him over the threshold and tried to catch Harry's attention, who was still sleeping. "Look, Harry, we're home," Lily cooed. "This is our home and we going to stay here forever."

"Say 'hi' to Daddy," I added. "Wave at Uncle Sirius." Harry continued to sleep. 

"Do you want to go to your nice, big room now?" Nodding, we walked up the stairs to put Harry in his now-completed room. We stood in the door and sighed. Harry squirmed and let out a tiny, creaky squawk that quickly died. We looked at each other and it finally hit us. We were now the sole protectors of tiny, defenseless human being. We would be bound to this life for many, many years in a bond stronger than any life bond imaginable. Everything in his life would begin and end with us. He would be looking up to us. 

And we were terrified. 

"Hey, James' mum is on the fire," Sirius announced behind us. 

"Mrs. Potter?" Lily asked hopefully.

"Who else? She wants to know if you two are okay and if you need anything."

*** ***

"We hope we're not imposing on you," Lily apologized once my mother arrived. "It's just... you see, it's..."

"No trouble at all," my mother answered, patting her on the knee from her place on the couch. "I was scared when James was finally given to me as well. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Is it really alright with you to stay with us?" I asked. 

"The manor is not going to fall to bits if I'm gone for a week," my mother answered. "I'm delighted that you even asked for me to stay. I wasn't expecting _that_ when I called."

"We did sort of pounce on you though, sorry."

"Where is your mother, Lily?" my mother inquired. 

"Oh, she hasn't called. She doesn't understand owl post or using the Floo and she is always forgetting the telephone number so sometimes I don't hear from her."

"Oh, well, I was just wondering because usually a young girl wants her mother in times like these."

"Oh! Well, I feel a tad safer with you, Mrs. Potter..."

"Abigail, please."

"Right. I feel safer with you, Abigail," Lily struggled with the name as if it was foreign, "because you're a witch and if something magical happens, you could help."

"I doubt anything will. I'm not casting doubt on my grandson but even the most advanced children do not show any signs until six months."

"But just in case," Lily quickly added. 

My mother nodded. "Just in case. Anyway, I'm flattered." 

Lily adjusted Harry in her arms. "Should he be sleeping so much? I mean, is that normal? Is there something wrong if he sleeps too much? Should I wake him up?"

"Lily, calm down," my mother interrupted. "Babies are always sleepy during their first month. It's perfectly natural. Trust me, you'll miss his sleepiness."

After an hour of talking about "what next", the doorbell rang. We all looked at each other. Do Death Eaters usually ring the doorbell? "I'll get it," Sirius offered. He went to the door and the caller nearly plowed Sirius over as she walked inside.

"Oh, thank you! My, Lily, you've redecorated!" It was Lily's mother. She was carrying two pieces of luggage and dressed in a beige summer dress with a thin red silk scarf tied around her neck. 

"Mum," Lily greeted, astonished, "you're here."

"Why of course I'm here, my darling child!"

"You didn't call."

"Why would I need to?" Lily just stuttered at her with her eyes wide. Her mother swept further into the sitting room. She noticed my mother, who was currently holding Harry. She squealed, "Oh, Abby! I haven't seen you in ages! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Maude," my mother answered softly. I had forgotten about Mrs. Evans habit of adding an "e" sound to the end of any name, leading to her calling me "Jamesie". I knew that my mother hated to be called "Abby". It was Abigail, Mrs. Potter, or nothing. 

Mrs. Evans leaned forward to look at Harry. "Tiny thing, isn't he?"

"James was smaller," my mother answered. 

"Oh, right, didn't Jamesie nearly die at birth?" She spoke as if I had fallen down and scratched my knee at some point. My mother's lips went thin.

"Yes," my mother answered stiffly. 

"That must of been awful," she commented. "Anyway, Harry looks better than he did when I saw him last. Of course, Dudley is much larger now."

"Dudley?" my mother asked.

"Oh, yes, my older daughter, Petunia, had a baby about a month before Lily. His name is Dudley and he is the prettiest little boy. Lovely, soft blond hair. Oh, he's precious." Lily looked like she was about to explode but her mother continued, "Of course, Harry is cute as well but he's just so tiny. It's worrisome."

"Harry is precious too," Lily snapped. 

"Of course he is. Who said he wasn't?" her mother replied. "Anyway, I'm here to help out, Lily. Motherhood is hard work and it's my duty as your mummy to help you in your time of need."

"Actually, I was going to help out," my mother answered softly. "But seeing as you are here now, I guess I don't have to..."

"Oh," Mrs. Evans replied coldly, "oh, that's how it is. I see."

"No, it isn't like that," Lily answered. "I thought you might be busy..."

"No, it's perfectly alright. It's not like I'm your mummy and I love you."

"It wasn't like that," Lily protested. "You can stay. It's alright."

Mrs. Evans gave a long-suffering sigh. "Petty practically ran into my arms when Dudley came. They didn't call Vernie's mother. She didn't think I was busy."

"Mum, I'm sorry. Mrs. Potter happened to call first. I mean, Harry is her first grandchild and she's a witch..."

"Oh, I'm just a simple Muggle now?"

"No, Mum, that's not it! Please, just stay. Let's not fight over this. I didn't know you had the time."

"Of course I have the time. Harry's my grandson!"

"I'm sorry, Mum. You can stay. It's alright."

Mrs. Evans gave another long-suffering sigh. "I hope that Abby doesn't mind."

"I can share. That's alright with me," my mother answered. 

"Good, then. Where should I sleep?"

*** ***

Mrs. Evans meant well. She was just a bit overbearing and childish. I'm glad that my mother was there because she gave us some degree of normalcy. It had been ages since I had lived with my mother and I had never noticed how spirited my mother could be. My mother had the most remarkably ability to complete insult someone while making it sound like a compliment. During the visit, all the gibes went to Lily's mother and she never caught on. 

One such example was when Mrs. Evans was fussing over Harry, while saying, "Say hello to Granny! Yes, you love your Granny, don't you dearie?" 

To which my mother commented, "Yes, Maude. You do look like a Granny." 

"Why, thank you, Abby."

Lily and I just looked each other in shock. Did my mother just say that? It reminded me eerily of Peter telling outright lies to his mother and his mother just tittering and saying, "My, you're precious." Together, they taught Lily the basics of motherhood and my mother gave us both a shoulder to lean on when Lily's mother got too overbearing. 

Two days after the mothers had arrived, I noticed that Harry's door was open slightly during one of his naps. Quietly, I opened the door more to peer inside. Sirius was leaning his arms on the railing of the crib, staring down at Harry. He was completely motionless, his face pensive and unreadable. He scarcely breathed as he stared down at my son. I nearly left, fearing that I had walked in on a private moment. 

Suddenly, Sirius stuck out his tongue at Harry and said, "You blinked. I win." I relaxed the breath I didn't realize I was holding. 

"Is he awake?"

"Yeah." Sirius hadn't removed his eyes from Harry. His face flickered back to the neutral expression. Quietly, he remarked, "Marguerite is being released tomorrow. Her family is picking her up."

"Oh."

"I thought I would visit her and maybe wait for her family with her. You know, keep her company."

"Is she going back to her house?"

"I think so. They're done with examining it for any leads."

"Did they find any?"

"No, of course not. That would be too easy." Sirius gave a weak burst of laughter before adding, "Anyway, I'll be gone in the morning. Think you three can survive Lily's mum until I get back?"

"I don't know. We always need reinforcements."

I stepped over to look at Harry and maybe to try to decipher what was going on inside Sirius' head. Harry stared up benignly at us and Sirius' face gave me no further clues close-up than far away. His eyes still not leaving Harry's, he said, "You can tell Lily now. It's alright now. She has to know sometime and now is a better time."

*** ***

That night, I told Lily all the details of Marguerite's accident and how Sirius took it. She was horrified that those two had to undergo all that strife while she was blissfully enjoying her new motherhood.

"They'll find them," she insisted, "they have to. Everything is going to work out for the best."

The next morning, Sirius was gone as he had promised. But by afternoon, he was still absent. "Maybe he wanted some time to himself," Lily suggested. By evening, he was still missing and we began to get worried. We listened to the Wireless to make sure that St. Mungo's hadn't been blown up or if there were any mass attacks. There was nothing newsworthy but that doesn't rule out everything.

After a restless night worrying if we had seen the last of Sirius Black and Harry demanding attention, we woke up and had breakfast. In the middle of toast, Sirius practically ripped the door off the hinges as he barged into the house and swept up the stairs. The four of us stared at each other in shock.

"Moody one, isn't he?" Lily's mother commented, shaking her head in disdain. "It's not even his house!"

Excusing myself, I followed after in his wake to find him gathering his clothes and personal belongings with an open empty suitcase on the cot. He appeared enraged, like he had just stepped away from a nasty shocking argument and still had some things to say. 

"Hi, James," he growled, throwing a lump of shirts into the suitcase.

"Packing?" 

"I'm leaving now."

"So soon?"

"Yes. I told you two days ago," he snapped.

"I know." Sirius continued to furiously pack heaps of clothes. "Where were you yesterday?"

Sirius slammed his comb into the pile and stared viciously outside the window, clenching his fists. "I want you to imagine the following scenario. A family member of yours is in the hospital and is being released. However, you have to work during the time that they are released. What do you do?"

"Ask if I can call off work for an hour or two," I answered.

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Yeah! So would I! So would any reasonable person! But do Marguerite's relatives? No." He turned to face me and looked like he was about burst a blood vessel. "Apparently, someone assigned her sister and my cousin to pick her up. She was released at ten o'clock in the morning. Do you know when they were going to come?" I shook my head. "I'll tell you. Five bleeding o'clock. Do you want to know why so late? Because they were 'too busy' to pick her up. They could not spare one hour to pick her up, drop her off, show her around her house _since she doesn't remember it_, and leave. She would have had to wait seven hours for them to pick them up."

"What happened to her?" I asked, wide-eyed.

"Well, I took her home obviously! By the way, when I did take her home, not one family member called her to see if she was okay. Not _one_. Not even the stupid sister to make sure if she reached home alright! They just came at five, didn't see her, and assumed her friend had taken her home without bothering to call to apologize!" Sirius was shaking in fury, his eyes livid. "And _then_ they get mad at _me_ for taking her home! Said I didn't have the _right_! Said I was..." Sirius cut off. He appeared to struggle with the words in his brain fighting to get out. 

"What else did they say?" I asked gently.

"Who cares about what they said!" he answered defiantly. "I certainly don't care about what they said! What do they know anyway?! I don't believe anything they say! They use any excuse! Any excuse! It's just the same thing they've always said, just changed the words around! Doesn't mean a thing!"

"Okay, Sirius, I believe you. It wasn't important," I stammered. 

Sirius wasn't done with his rant, exclaiming, "And they didn't even clean her kitchen!"

"The sister?"

"No! The Aurors! Just left the Dark Mark on the wall! And the..." he trailed off, his eyes appearing to be looking at the kitchen once again. He added quietly, "She can see flashes. Not close to knowing to what actually happening but she gets impressions, sights, sounds, little bits."

"What can she remember?"

"Two people. She remembers grabbing a knife but can't recall what happened with the knife. A knife _was_ on the floor so I think that makes sense. And pain. And anger. That's it. I took her out of there. I don't want her... I just don't want her to relive that so soon." His head drooped as he turned back to the window, almost whispering, "She knows."

"Knows?"

"About the miscarriage. Harding told her during one of the last days." I stared at my feet as Sirius remained silent. He heaved a big sigh and commented, "Well, suitcase isn't going to pack itself."

"I'll help you."

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: This chapter is code-named "The De-Angstifying of Sirius". Yes, I can hear the teeth gnashing from here. "Harry's eyes are GREEN. Green as a pickled toad! G-R-E-E-N!" or if you've only seen the movie, "BLUE! Blue, for Pete's sake!" I know what color his eyes are. Did I fail you on the Robert/Ron thing? No, and I won't fail you this time either. I took my AP United States History test today. I wrote the worst essays. They were miserable, really they were. At least the Document Based Question essay was something I knew about. The actual multiple choice part was okay. There were about ten I had no idea about. My friend Naisumi made the nicest poster for my locker with pictures of Yukino Miyazawa on it since she's so studious if a bit crazy (the problem is: is "she" Naisumi or Yukino? I'm not quite sure myself). My birthday is in two days, on May llth. I'll be seventeen years old. Only three more weeks of school and then one week of finals and then I'm done with junior year. YAY! I just realized I have a pet peeve: computer talk. You know what I'm talking about. Stuff like "who r u" and "y" and "whut eva". I just had some random person IM me and talk like that the ENTIRE TIME. Not only that, she was really rude to me. Argh! But, if you want to IM me (my AOL name is TerraC), that's okay. Just don't use that funky computer talk and make sure to tell me that you're a fan of my fic or I might think you're someone trying to talk to their friend Terra Cobble from Meadowbrook High or something. It has happened so many times to me, it's not funny. Can't anyone write down their friends' aliases correctly? Jeez. If you don't want to IM me, which is fine, you can still review with the button or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com! I love reviews and I've never gotten a flame before so I'd like to see one! See ya later! 


	23. China Doll

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-three: China Doll

Sirius left to go back to his old flat (I had been paying the rent to make sure it was still there) on that Monday and the mothers left the following Sunday. We were finally left alone. 

I soon found myself being pulled back to work at the same time the Ministry hinted that Lily should make a decision whether to stay at home or not. Lily and I spent many nights discussing this. On one hand, Lily liked working and her job. On the other hand, we didn't really need that extra income and there was no telling how Harry would act in later months. Lily, being a modern woman, decided that she would return to work. 

Our next task was to find what to do with Harry during the day. Lily timidly suggested a nanny but I put my foot down. I had been raised by a nanny and I had hated my nanny immensely. Besides, I could remember more than one of my playmates calling their nanny "mother" much to the parents' horror. Harry was not going to have a stay-at-home nanny. Outside childcare seemed like a good solution. It would provide interaction with other children. He would develop close friendships with little children like him. Of course, I brought up the story of Sirius' experience to counter the argument but we reasoned that his case was probably quite rare. We agreed that this was the best solution and went to one such childcare facility to check it out (to prevent a case like Sirius).

It was very pleasant and bright with three aides playing with children from infants to ten years old. There were lots of games and toys and a shelf of very well maintained books. We couldn't help but smile. If I was a kid, I would have wanted to be there. When we told the head teacher that we liked the place and wanted more some information (as in cost), she smiled with all her white teeth and led us into a little office. 

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, I'm so glad that you've liked what you've seen here," she breathed. She was slightly older than us, no more than mid-thirties, with a light, breathless voice filled with excitement. She could have made a shopping list sound intriguing. 

"Oh, yes, this is a wonderful place," Lily answered, grinning. "Harry will just _love_ it here."

"I want to stay here myself," I added. The woman laughed.

"Most people do. Well, now, I'm afraid we have to talk about grown-up stuff now."

We turned stoic. We were parents now and Harry's future was in our hands. "Yes, we would like to know the cost."

"Of course. Well, the cost is 17, 000 Galleons."

I heard Lily's breath catch in her throat at that same time mine caught in my throat. That was a bit steeper than what we expected. We looked at each other and then at the children playing beyond the window of the office. Lily raised her eyebrows at me. It _was_ nice. We could afford it and this was _Harry_ we were discussing. He only deserved the best. I nodded at her. 

"We think that's reasonable," Lily answered. "That's yearly, right?"

The woman shook her head, her bright blue earrings rattling like dice. "No. That's monthly."

Lily gasped. "_Monthly_?"

The woman nodded. "Mm-hm."

We looked at each other in shock. "That's..." I stammered, doing quick calculations in my head. "204, 000 Galleons." The woman nodded again, smiling as if this was a perfectly reasonable price. "A year."

"You must live very well," Lily commented.

The woman shrugged. "Well, I guess I do." She smiled mindlessly and then hastily added, "Oh, but I don't do it for the money, obviously."

I'm sure you don't, I thought.

Lily seemed to be trying to catch her breath. "I think... we need a little time to think this over."

"Oh! Of course! I wasn't expecting a split second decision!" She grinned but I could tell she was mildly disappointed. We shakily rose from our chairs, thanked her for showing us around when she was so busy with her work, and then she led us to the main entrance. 

"Now remember," she cautioned brightly as we turned to go. "this is your child we're talking about. Our care is worth every Knut."

"We'll keep that in mind," Lily stammered. 

When we Apparated home, Sirius was still there (we had left little Harry in his care) and Peter had joined him. Harry was staring bemusedly at them both as we staggered in. 

"You look like you just saw a train wreck," Peter remarked.

"Was the place really that horrible?" Sirius asked. 

"No, it was wonderful. There were toys and games and oodles of wonderful, beautiful things there. It was heavenly," Lily answered. 

"Then why do you look like someone died?"

"It costs 17, 000 Galleons..."

"Oh, that's not _too_ bad, of course, childcare is never cheap..."

"A month."

Peter exclaimed a swear word so loud that he startled Harry and he began to cry. Lily ran to him to comfort him. Sirius clutched his head. "Do I even make that much?" he wondered aloud. 

"It's 204, 000 Galleons a year," I added. Peter went so white I was afraid he would faint. He didn't but instead mumbled, "Do _I_ make that much?"

"I certainly don't," Sirius replied. "Man, I could use an extra 200, 000 Galleons to throw around."

"Throw around?" Peter demanded. "I'd keep it! Keep it in my vault and visit it on holidays and on its birthday. Never touch it ever!"

"What I could do with that money... I'd buy another motorcycle. Hell, I'd buy two. Ride one on even days, the other on odd days, keep the one I already have for parts."

"Sirius, you have your parents' vault," Peter said. "If you wanted another motorcycle, you could buy one."

"That vault is for dire emergencies! I meant just an extra 200, 000 Galleons that would just come every year, no strings attached."

"Forget you two," I answered, "I'd like an extra 204, 000 Galleons that I didn't have a use for!"

"What do they do at this place? Feed the babies caviar for snack time before laying them down on down mattresses covered in Chinese silk for naptime?" Sirius demanded.

"We're not paying that much, James. I love Harry but that was insane," Lily gasped. 

"I completely agree. We could just send him to Norway to hang out with Remus for an afternoon at that rate."

But similar childcare centers seemed to carry similar price tags. We began to worry. Lily outright refused to send Harry to her parents and I didn't feel right about asking my mother. 

Our savior came in the form of Remus through a letter. We had told him our trials with the childcare places and he wrote back, "Why not Mrs. Figg?"

*** ***

Mrs. Arabella Figg had been a friend of the Pettigrews before Peter's father's "death" and their eventual move and of the Lupins when they had moved near where she resided. It wasn't until Peter and Remus entered Hogwarts that the two families realized they had a mutual friend. 

Mrs. Figg is around my mother's age and has had five children. Remus even had short fling with one of the daughters, Caroline, after his breakup with Narcissa. Unfortunately, hard times had fallen on Mrs. Figg. Her husband died suddenly of a heart attack during our sixth year. Her eldest son, Borgis, went missing during our seventh year; he's still missing. Her twin boy and girl, Julius and Julia, were killed in a Death Eater attack two years ago. Caroline was given the Crucio by her own boyfriend and went mad as a result that same year. She is currently at St. Mungo's, completely unresponsive to anyone or anything. The youngest son, Theodore, who had been an Auror, was killed when they captured Percy Weatherby. The story goes that Theodore shielded a young Muggle girl with his own body from the Killing Curse. Theodore had been the only casualty, besides the Muggles that Percy's men had already killed. 

In desperation, we called up Mrs. Figg and asked if we could come over. Mrs. Figg is a Muggle lifestyle researcher or a Mugglogist. If you look carefully on the Muggle Studies textbooks, she is listed as one of the advisors, as Sirius pointed out when he took the class. Her most famous work is _Muggles in the Mist_. When all her children had grown up, she moved permanently into Muggle society in a little town called Little Whinging in Surrey. 

Her house smelled strongly of cabbage and I wondered aloud if she was brewing Polyjuice Potion (I had made a batch for my seventh year Potion final project. Not fun. Although, it was pretty entertaining to look like Lily for an hour). 

"What makes you say that, dear?"

"Well, it smells like cabbages in here."

"Oh! I'm cooking some fresh cabbage right now. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you," I mumbled, grimacing. 

"It's full of vitamins!"

"No, thank you for offering."

"How about some nice piece of cake?"

Knowing that her cakes are slightly better than those of the old Gamekeeper's apprentice, Hagrid, I answered, "No, we just ate."

"Well, do sit down," she requested, indicating a relatively beaten-up sofa. Lily and I sat and as soon as we did the cats began to swarm. All of Mrs. Figg's children had been huge cat lovers and when they had died or at least rendered unable to raise their cats, Mrs. Figg had taken them in. _All_ of them. The cats seemed to like me best as they all made efforts to make themselves at home on various parts of my body. 

As I fought to detach them, Lily explained our problem with Harry and our attempts at outside childcare. She meekly beseeched her to baby sit Harry while we were at work. Much to our surprise and relief, she agreed right away.

"It will make this house fuller during the day. Don't worry, I can research at the same time, believe me. I did it four times, one time for twins and that should be worth four alone."

After practically getting down on our knees and worshipping her, we promised to return that Monday and we promised to pay her a reasonable sum on every Friday. That Monday, we stopped Harry off at Mrs. Figg's house, who was enjoying her breakfast of toast and jam. 

"Oh, that's a glorious baby boy," Mrs. Figg cooed.

Lily blushed and answered, "Thank you."

"Oh, we'll have lots of fun, Harry and I. But I'm afraid I have some bad news," she said solemnly. 

"Bad news? What happened?" Lily asked, clutching Harry to her chest.

"Come with me. Try not to call attention to yourselves."

She led us outside and we walked three streets down to a street called Privet Drive. A moving truck was being unloaded outside of Number Four. We kept to the bushes to watch the family presumably moving in. It was obvious who it was. It was Vernon and Petunia. Vernon had his big, beefy arm around Petunia's shoulders as she cradled her enormous four-month-old son. He was raising a huge fit in his mother's arms but they ignored him for the time being, transfixed by their new home. 

Lily nearly screamed in rage. "Petunia! Why does she always do this to me?!"

"Now, now. I'm sure she has no idea about our arrangement. If this makes you uncomfortable, you can always find another..."

"No," Lily snapped. "You're not the problem, it's her, Vernon, and Dudley that are the problem. Please, Mrs. Figg, keep Harry away from that dreadful kid. Actually, keep him away from the whole family. He might be traumatized or Dudley's habits might rub off on Harry and I can't have _that_! Please, Mrs. Figg, keep him away from them!"

"Of course, Lily. I don't want any trouble with my Muggle neighbours. Remember, I may need them for research purposes someday. I just wanted you to know."

"Thank you, Mrs. Figg." Lily looked down at Harry who was beginning to wake up again. "You know, every time I see Dudley, I'm reminded on how _blessed_ I was to have you, Harry." She gave a kiss on his forehead. "Mummy has to go to work soon but Mummy and Daddy will be back at lunchtime and then later, we'll all go home again."

*** ***

Soon enough, it was December. In our excitement about Harry's first Christmas, we bought a wide assortment of cute little presents whenever the mood took us. Harry managed quite a haul by the time we hosted our Christmas party. 

Our Christmas party served two purposes. One was to let our friends and family come to us rather than us to them. Two was to show our almighty child to everyone. Our party took place on the 23rd of December. Remus, home in England for the holidays, volunteered to help us decorate the house. 

As Remus and I were finalizing the last touches, Lily carried Harry downstairs dressed in a red sleeper with reindeer heads sewn into it. "Sorry," Lily explained, "Harry keeps ripping the antlers off."

"That's okay, he's cute enough," I replied, taking him from her. Lifting him up several times, I said, "Who's a big boy? Who's everyone coming to see?"

"He's grown since I last saw him," Remus interrupted. 

"Hasn't he?" I grinned. Turning him around so he faced outward, I muttered in Harry's ear, "Do you like our decorations? Uncle Remus came all the way from Norway to help decorate our big house." Harry kept trying to turn his head around to look at me. "I could eat you up!" I kissed the top of his head and bounced him in my arms. He giggled and kicked his little legs. 

"Do you want to hold him, Remus?" Lily asked politely.

"Maybe later," he answered.

"Good, because he's mine and you can't have him," I added, sticking out my tongue. I whispered into Harry's ear, "You're all mine. Never going to let you go." I lifted him up into the air. "Never! They'll never take us alive!"

"What about Hogwarts?" Remus teased. "His letter will come and off he'll go."

"I'll hide him. Won't I, Harry? We'll live in boxcars and sing for our suppers!" I joked, laughing. Harry kicked into the air and made sounds of delight. "We'll always be one step ahead of Dumbledore! The Amazing Potter Father Son Team: men will worship us, ladies will love us, and future generations will compose songs about us!"

"Ugh, maybe you two should be separated." Lily chuckled and then sighed. "Oh, it's weird how Harry will be going off to Hogwarts someday. He'll leave us forever."

"That's a million years from now," I argued. "We have plenty of time to waste." I brought Harry back down to me and bounced him a little more.

"So, is everyone coming?" Remus asked. 

"Yes," Lily answered, "Peter is even bringing Blithe."

"If she doesn't show up," I added, "then we'll have to assume that Peter made her up." The clock chimed the hour. "Time for the guests to arrive."

*** ***

Everyone who said they would come, did come. One by one and then by couples, our guests began to arrive. The party was in full force by the time Sirius and Marguerite came. Sirius helped her with her cloak as Lily and I went over to greet them.

"Well, hello!" Lily chirped. 

"Sorry we're late," Sirius said. 

"Oh, that's alright, you're not the only one. Peter isn't here yet."

"Peter's my other friend," Sirius answered to Marguerite's questioning look. "He's blond. I'll show him when he comes."

"Okay," Marguerite agreed nervously. 

"Well, how are you, Marguerite?" Lily asked softly.

"Oh, fine," she replied automatically. 

"Are you back at work?" 

"Well, I have to intern a bit... um... uh..."

"Lily," Sirius whispered a bit too loud.

"What?" Marguerite mumbled.

"Her name is Lily."

"Lilith?"

"Lily."

"Lillian?"

"_Lily_."

"Lesley?"

"Li—ly," he answered, not bothering to whisper anymore.

"Lily..." Marguerite repeated. "Sorry, I'm still pretty bad with names. Do you mind," she asked, revealing the box-like bag which her camera had come in, "if I take your picture? I make flashcards of people I meet so I can practice."

"No, that's perfectly alright." Lily stood in front of the wall as Marguerite took her picture. 

"And your last name is... don't tell me... I can get this... Lily Pettigrew."

"Potter," Sirius corrected. "It's _Peter_ Pettigrew and Lily _Potter_."

"I got the 'P' right," Marguerite answered sullenly. 

Sirius took a deep breath. "Yes, you did." As Sirius took off his cloak, Marguerite brought out her black marker and had Lily spell out her full name so she wouldn't mess up when practicing. I noticed that she had a large stack now, about thirty pictures total at least. 

"Anyway," Marguerite remarked cheerfully, "your house is lovely, Jarod."

"Jarod?" I asked. "Who's Jarod?"

"It's James, Marguerite," Sirius corrected wearily. "Your _brother_ is named Jarod. Your host is _James_."

It was a full fifteen minutes before Peter and his girlfriend arrived. They came unnoticed in the din of noise and conversation. Once we realized that they had come, Lily and I made our way to greet them. 

The first thing I noticed about the girlfriend was her height: extremely short. She barely reached Peter's shoulder and made me feel positively tall. She was very fair with an even, almost doll-like skin tone. Her glossy black hair, that almost seemed fake, was in very tight curls that hung slightly past her chin. She was busying herself with finding a place to hang her cloak when Lily came over and greeted them. 

At first, I thought that Peter must have brought along one of his mother's students; it obviously wasn't Blithe as she couldn't be older than sixteen years old, I thought, unless Peter had suddenly become a pedophile. So, it didn't surprise me when Lily said, after saying hello to Peter, "My, are you one of Mrs. Pettigrew's students?"

She finally turned her attention to her hostess and her look was like stone. She answered in a strangely nasal voice, "I'm Blithe." Our eyes must have bugged out because she laughed mockingly. "Has Peter never described me?"

"Peter," Lily said, turning back to Peter, "you can't be serious!"

Blithe laughed again. "Your faces!"

Lily faced Blithe again. "How old are you? Give me an honest answer. Does your mother know you're here?"

"Actually, yes, my mother _does_ know I'm here. Let me ask you," Blithe commanded, "how old do you _think_ I am?"

Lily and I looked at each other and I answered, "You can't be older than sixteen, eighteen tops, I'd say."

Blithe nearly fell over from laughter as she searched her handbag. Still laughing with her head rolled back, she handed Lily an Apparation license. It was clearly hers and the birth date was printed clearly in the corner as it always is. We both gasped as we did the math in our heads. 

"You're five years older than Peter!" Lily shrieked in surprise. "How can... how can that be?"

"Wonderful, wonderful genes," Blithe announced proudly. "I once got a boyfriend arrested because a stupid Muggle called the authorities on us."

"I was about to say that she looks younger than she is," Peter explained weakly. "You just didn't give me a chance."

Lily took out her wand and pointed it at Blithe. "_Finite Incanteum_!"

Blithe remained unchanged and pushed her curly hair back as if to prove that it was connected to her head. "As you see, I do nothing to achieve this."

At first glance, I could have argued that Blithe was adorably cute like a little Daddy's Girl with pink ribbons in her hair and licking a lolly. However, now that I could give her a second look, it was quite clear that "cute" was the last word to describe her. Her eyes were harsh. She had a firm gaze as if committing our floor plan to memory. Again, I was reminded of a porcelain doll with perfect skin tone, perfectly styled hair and inhuman glass eyes. It was the eyes that gave any hint of her true age. 

As Lily helped Blithe with her cloak, Blithe stared at Lily strangely. "Why are you putting my cloak away?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you didn't want to wear it inside!" Lily apologized.

"No, I mean, shouldn't House Elves be doing this?"

Lily straightened up. Lily is morally opposed to House Elves. She always told me that it made her uncomfortable to exploit a whole race for her leisure. She realized, however, that many would not agree (my parents included) and I argued that many do treat their elves kindly so Lily did not begrudge others of their servants. But Lily would never allow us elves of our own, which was fine with me. "We don't own House Elves," Lily explained calmly.

Blithe stared at her as if she had said that we didn't take baths. "You don't own House Elves."

"No, we don't."

Blithe stared at Peter as if wanting conformation. Peter nodded. "They don't have House Elves."

Blithe stared at me. I nodded as well. "We've never had House Elves."

"The Potter estate is full of House Elves," Blithe replied. 

"That's right. My parents do own House Elves but Lily and I do not."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't believe... I don't feel _comfortable_ having servants that hu--... I just don't feel comfortable about having them." I have warned Lily many times not to say "we don't have House Elves because it's wrong and evil" because people get rather defensive when you say things like that. 

Blithe stared at Peter again, looking absolutely aghast and seemed to be silently asking him why he had brought her to such a madhouse. Peter tittered nervously and asked, "So, is Sirius and Remus here?"

"We're right here," Remus answered as Sirius, who appeared to be scowling at Remus' back, followed behind. 

"This is Blithe Tambre," Peter announced. "And no, she's not sixteen, thank you for asking."

I handed the license to Remus, which they read. No longer scowling, Sirius whistled. "I must say, you look good for your age."

Blithe shrugged smugly. Our little group forayed into the main room where the party was. Marguerite was sitting in a single overstuffed chair, calmly sipping a cup of punch. "This is Marguerite Malina," Sirius pronounced as an introduction to Blithe Tambre. Marguerite looked up into Blithe's face and looked startled. 

"I'm _so_ sorry about your accident, Miss Malina. This _must_ be a trying time for you and your loved ones," Blithe said. Maybe it was just me but I clearly heard a hint of sarcasm but I really can't see why Blithe would find Marguerite's situation funny. 

Marguerite stared at Blithe. "Do I... do I know you?"

Blithe was taken aback. "Know me?"

"I recognize your face... your voice. I can't really place where but I swear we've met before."

"You've met each other?" Sirius asked, looking from one woman to the other. 

"I can't see how we could have. I certainly don't recall her," Blithe answered haughtily. 

"But I swear, we must have met before," Marguerite insisted. "Where did we meet?" She appeared to be thinking hard. "It was recently. Something in my gut tells me it was recently, within the past year."

"Have you been sick for any reason?" Remus asked. "Made any visits to St. Mungo's? Visited a friend?"

"I don't remember even if I did," Blithe answered. 

"It's on the tip of my brain," Marguerite muttered. 

"You know what I was just thinking," Peter interrupted. "Sirius, do you still have that horrible picture of your mum with the curly hair?"

"When she was twelve?" Sirius asked. "Yeah, why?"

"Have you shown it to Marguerite?"

Sirius clapped his hands and looked up at the ceiling. "You're right! I did! I just showed to you last week, didn't I, Marguerite?"

"Did you?" Marguerite wondered. 

"Yeah, it was in black and white so my mum's hair looks black like Blithe's. Oh, why didn't I think of that?"

"Well, it flew into my mind just now so I don't blame you," Peter answered. "See? Problem solved."

"What about her voice? The picture doesn't talk," Marguerite demanded.

"I did a commercial on the Wireless a few months back," Blithe explained. "Perhaps you recognize my voice from that."

"You act?" Remus asked.

"From time to time. It was a favor for an old classmate of mine," Blithe admitted off-handedly. "I usually do it when the mood takes me."

It was then that it finally hit me. Ever since I had first heard her name, I had wondered why it sounded familiar. "Excuse me, but are you the daughter of Gene Tambre?" She nodded. It was hard to stop myself from falling over in shock. The Tambre family is an ancient family; they can't even trace back to the last Muggle in their family. They were pureblood when Hogwarts was being founded; many families can not claim that. Even the Malfoys, who go on and on about how old the family line is, could rightly be called "Mudblood" by a member of the Tambre clan. The Tambres could buy and sell my family five times, buy and sell the Malfoys a few times, buy and sell a few other notable families, and still have some left to buy a mansion or two. Whenever we pureblood children would all visit, we were all told to be on our very best behavior. Every pureblood child was gobsmacked by the sheer wealth of the family, even Lucius and he is hard to please. None of the Tambre children went to Hogwarts however; they all went to a much more selective school in Italy. 

"Now I know you. You once played the violin for everyone."

"You threw up during the performance," Blithe added, smiling in a mocking way. "And it was the _viola_, not the violin."

"Well, I wasn't very healthy back then. I must have been around five," I answered, embarrassed. 

"Yes, I know," she reflected as if this was the most ridiculous conversation and her eyes rolled just a tiny fraction as she fought to not roll her eyes but couldn't resist. 

"Sorry about that." 

"It's alright, it was a long time ago."

"So, do you still practice Dance Dueling?" I wondered.

"Yes," she answered, "I do. I teach it privately as well as music and singing."

"What's Dance Dueling?" Lily asked nervously. 

"It's like ballet," I explained, "except you use the wand to create spells of light as you prance around. Back in the old days, it was a form of dueling practiced only by witches. The spells could really hurt people. It was more dangerous than the wizard version."

"Using it for dueling has been banned for about fifty years," Blithe added smugly, "Now you use a wand without a magical core, called a 'dead' wand, like the ones used for children when learning to spell, to create light and harmless sparks instead. Of course, if you used a real wand, it could hurt or kill someone; the technique is the same."

"Oh, that's really interesting. Are you very good?" Lily remarked.

"I won several awards in my youth." She shrugged as if winning several awards was no big deal. "I rarely perform now, just teach."

"Do you sing too?" Lily asked. Blithe nodded impatiently. "I wish I was that talented."

"She's in that new play," Peter interrupted. "The one about Virginia Lenore."

"I'm just an understudy, Peter, nothing big. I'm in the pit mostly, playing my viola," Blithe stuttered, looking very flattered. She lowered her eyes and blushed slightly as if he had paid her the highest compliment.

"What play about Virginia Lenore?" I asked, startled slightly by Blithe's reaction to Peter's statement.

"Oh, it's a play about her life and her work," Blithe explained, snapping out of whatever mood Peter had temporarily placed her into. "It was postponed because she died. They had to add her last pieces and that weird letter." She sighed and remarked, "I don't see what the big deal is about her."

"Well, she was a famous author and she had a sudden death," Peter said quickly. 

Marguerite raised her hand shakily and Sirius replied, "I'll explain later. It's a long story."

Lily took a deep breath. "So, anyway, Blithe, would you like to see Harry?"

"Oh, I'm not good with children..." Blithe answered, trying to back away.

"You'll be fine," Lily replied cheerfully. Before Lily could retrieve Harry, two of my cousins shyly came over. The older, Flora, stepped up to Blithe.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt but my sister and I were wondering," she asked with a smile, looking over at Winfred smugly, "where you bought that lovely outfit."

Now that attention was called to it, I took in what she was wearing. It was made entirely dark blue velvet. There was a long skirt with petticoats underneath with a stiff coat buttoned up all the way with black buttons. The entire outfit was trimmed with black lace. 

Blithe glanced down at her wardrobe. "This? In _Avalon Designs_, why?"

Flora looked startled, like that wasn't the answer she was expecting. "You're joking."

"I'm not. I bought it last week."

Winfred charged up excitedly. "That's the same one they had the window display, isn't it?"

"Not the very same but the same design, yes."

Winfred turned on Flora. "I _told_ you that was the outfit! I _told_ you and you wouldn't believe me!"

"That's impossible! It costs a fortune!" Flora countered. She straightened up and asked sweetly, "Was there a sale that day, perchance?"

Blithe shook her head. "No. I paid full price."

Both of the women's jaws dropped. Winfred stuttered, "But it's so much! Around eighty Galleons!" Blithe shrugged, unconcerned. "What in Heaven's name do you do for a living?"

Blithe seemed to think about this. "I guess I don't really have an occupation of sorts. A little of this, a little of that."

"My goodness! What is your name?"

"Blithe Tambre."

Their shoulders relaxed and they looked at each other. They raised their eyes to the ceiling and they both muttered, "Ooohhh, Tambre. Should've known."

"Sorry for disturbing you," Flora apologized. "My sister has been wanting to buy that outfit for ages now. She was just surprised that someone managed to buy it. Sorry again." They smiled at her and walked away, chattering frantically to each other, their heads close together. 

"Eighty Galleons?" Peter demanded incredulously. Blithe just mumbled something and fiddled with her cuffs. 

"Oh, there's Harry," Lily said, going over to fetch him.

Harry was currently being held by Olivia Longbottom who was chatting with another old school friend of Lily's. Lily asked to have Harry back and gently handed him over to Blithe. Within seconds, Harry's face scrunched up and he wailed. Blithe scowled at him and gave him to Peter. Harry screamed louder. Deeply embarrassed for Peter's sake, I grabbed Harry and made to walk upstairs but Harry let out a whimper and fell silent. 

"I told you," Blithe growled, "I'm not good with children."

"Handing him to me just made it worse," Peter added.

"He's just over-stimulated," Lily explained nervously. "It probably has nothing to do with you or Peter."

"I'm going to lay him down," I offered. "He's probably really tired."

I went upstairs with Harry in tow and walked to the darkened bedroom. I laid him in the crib and spun his mobile over his head. He seemed to have calmed down so I journeyed back downstairs. 

By the time I came down, Remus was fishing out some pictures of people from his work in Norway. He handed them around to all of us. He had pictures of his boarding house, his landlady and her family (Gerd really _is_ ugly. Troll-City), his boss, Ulric, a fierce looking silver haired short and stocky man ("He's a big softy"), Kovit, a spindly man with a beard and glasses over a serious face ("He's married and has three kids. Very cute kids. The youngest who is five years old forces me to read _Ronny Johan_, which the Norwegian translation of _Ron Seannings_, to her whenever I baby-sit. Her favorite characters are Hermine Bolle and Skorpus, this rat of Ron's who later turns out to be Ron's father or something"), Svein, a young clean-shaven man with sandy blond hair dangling over his eyes ("He's marrying Sonja this summer. He's kind of crazy and he never gets tired"), Gudrun, a waif-like woman with short red hair with a cocky smile ("She was a Seeker, or a speider as they call it, during school. She runs every day early in the morning and her legs are pretty powerful. She's kicked Svein pretty hard more than once and one time she broke his leg, so don't let her appearance fool you"), Sonja, a well-endowed girl with a bright smile and her brown plaits put up into loops ("She doesn't usually wear her hair like that, it's usually in a plait bun thing. She can be summed up in one word: perky. I don't even think dementors, or desperants, bother her. Kind of creepy really"), and finally Hilda. Hilda's hair was almost bleach blond and went all the way down her back in one long plait. She was muscular and held a firm gaze to the camera with only a hint of a smile. Out of all the pictures, she was the only one wearing their uniform: a simple everything-from-stains-to-curses-proof black robe with a wand holster and side bag for anything else needed. The contrast between her pale face and hair and the dark outfit made her specter-like and have a more severe expression. No wonder he was afraid to ask her for a drink; she really looked like she could seriously hurt someone. 

After Remus was done with his show and tell, Lily and I played hosts once again, mingling with everyone. As I passed, Blithe was hissing at Peter, "It's fine, it's fine." I was about to ask what was fine but Blithe asked Peter to tell her where the toilet was located, which he pointed out and she left. I shrugged, telling myself that it probably wasn't a big deal in the first place if the discussion had concluded so swiftly. Not asking him about what they had just been discussing, I chatted with Peter. A few moments into the conversation, he gasped in pain and gripped his left upper arm. 

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He panted and answered, "Fine. Just fine."

"You don't look fine."

"No, it's okay. Don't worry about it." His eyes were watering up and he seemed grit his teeth against the pain.

"Peter, it looks painful. Do you need a painkiller or want Lily to charm it? Where is it hurting anyway?" I made a move to grab his arm for a better look but he stepped away.

"No!" he shrieked, then shook his head and said more calmly, "No, it's probably just asleep or something." He shut his eyes. "Oh, ow."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Peter answered, panting. "Where did Blithe go?"

"To the toilet, I saw her go in that direction," I answered. "You don't want ice or anything? Nothing at all?"

Peter ignored me and went towards the downstairs toilet. Blithe was no where nearby in the corridor. He knocked on the closed door, wincing, with his left hand, still clutched in his right hand. "Blithe? Are you in there?"

"Yes," she answered weakly. It sounded like it was coming from the floor. 

"Blithe? Is your stomach bothering you again? Me and James were wondering where you went."

"James is out there?" 

"Yes, I'm here," I answered. "Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?"

"No, I think my stomach is acting up again. It's feels like I'm being stabbed," Blithe whined. 

"James, do you mind if we head home? She hasn't been feeling very well all week and she only came because I insisted. I'm sorry," Peter apologized. 

Oh, that's what they must've been talking about before, I realized. "Sure, go ahead. I don't want her to suffer."

"Blithe, we're going to go now. Are you decent?" Peter asked. The lock clicked and the door opened. Blithe's right arm was against her stomach and her hand clung to her left upper arm, probably to keep herself from crying out. She was hunched over and she was sweating slightly. Her pale face was even paler and her eyes were tearing up as well. 

"You should go have a rest when you get home," I suggested. She nodded. "And you should take something for your arm, Peter."

"I will if it doesn't right itself in half an hour," Peter promised. The pair quietly left the party and it was several minutes before anyone but me noticed. 

*** ***

"Well, that was fun," Lily concluded when everyone but Remus, Sirius, and Marguerite left. Marguerite was in the toilet as Lily and I made a half-hearted attempt to clean up. Sirius sat in a chair waiting for Marguerite to finish as Remus stood against a wall. "Too bad about Blithe though. I hope she feels better."

"Me too," I answered.

"I have a feeling that she didn't really enjoy herself," Lily remarked sadly. 

There was only the sound of us clearing up until Remus declared suddenly, "I don't like her."

"Like who?" Lily asked.

"Blithe. I didn't like her."

"Oh, is that so?" Sirius drawled. "And why is that?"

"I don't really know. She just rubs me wrong."

"She rubs you wrong? What kind of stupid reason is that?"

"I know it's stupid but I can't put my finger on what is it about her I don't like."

"No, there is something. I can tell, you just don't want to say."

"Well, I get a weird... I don't know... vibe from her."

Sirius burst out into a mocking laugh. "A 'vibe'? What? Can you read auras now or something?"

"I didn't say that. I guess she reminds me of Gertude a little..."

"Gertude? _Gertude_? Evil lying, cheating Gertude? What are you trying to say? That she's cheating on Peter, stringing him along for kicks?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying!" Remus shouted defensively.

"It sure sounds like it! So Peter's girlfriend is musically talented, smart, rich, and very pretty, does that automatically mean she doesn't like him? Do you have a problem with Peter being happy and content?"

"I don't have a problem with Peter being happy! Who said I did? I just said I don't like her!"

"Well, _I_ like her fine, I don't see what _your_ problem is!" Sirius stood up with his fists clenched and stared Remus in the face.

"Because she was rude! Didn't you notice how she spoke to us? Like we were scum! And how she spoke to James! This is his house! This was his party and she was invited to it!" Remus pointed his finger at him. "And _you_! You've been acting like I'm a criminal or something all night! What is _your_ problem?"

"I haven't got a problem! Maybe you feel like you have something to _hide_!"

"What are you talking about? I haven't the faintest idea what you could mean! What is going on inside your head?!"

"It should be _obvious_!"

"_Obvious_? Yeah, Sirius, that's right, I'm really the drunk driver who ran into your parents!"

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY PARENTS LIKE THAT!"

"Both of you!" I screamed. "Stop it! Get a hold of yourselves!" Still shaking from fury, both of them stepped back from each other. Their faces were flushed and their fists were tightly clenched. "What is the matter with you two? Never mind, that was rhetorical."

"I'm sorry I said all those things, Sirius," Remus muttered. It wasn't until just now that I realized that Sirius never once apologized. I think I know why but I'm getting ahead of myself. 

"I think there's a simple explanation for Blithe's behavior," Lily said softly and calmly. "I think she wasn't feeling well first of all so that made her a little cranky. She was also probably really nervous. She didn't know anyone except Peter and she probably felt like making a good impression. She probably acted like she was better than us because she didn't want to show us that she was so nervous. I've met plenty of girls and women who do this when they're in a situation where they are nervous or lost. She probably didn't mean to come off like that. She was just nervous, that's all."

"Besides, would Peter date someone if she was really that horrible?" I added. 

"No, I guess not. I never thought that she might be nervous," Remus admitted.

"That was the whole point," Lily explained. 

"So, you admit to being judgmental?" Sirius offered slyly. Remus flushed with anger again but Marguerite came into the room and called out, "I'm ready, Sirius." I could tell from the expression on her face that she had heard the entire argument. Her entrance seemed to calm Sirius down slightly. Sometimes, I wonder if Marguerite was the only thing holding Sirius back from doing... I don't know what and I frankly don't want to know. She was like Clarissa in that respect. She gave him freedom but always had a hand on his collar to prevent any disasters, pulling him back away from an ungodly error. 

"Alright, come on," Sirius said, still glaring at Remus who was glaring back. Marguerite thanked us for a lovely time as Sirius gathered her things and led her out the door. 

Lily and I stared at Remus who continued to stare at the door. "I have no idea what is going through his mind right now. Absolutely no idea."

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: School's over, yeah! Blithe's appearance is actually based partly on a coat I owned when I was little and a doll I saw once in a magazine. Although, strangely enough, a girl in my math class looks exactly like her. They don't act alike though. Originally, Blithe was very soft-spoken and meek but then Blithe started channeling the soul of Tsubasa Shibahime from Karekano and got that weird voice and that attitude and it stuck. The Norwegian words are really from the Norwegian version of _Harry Potter_ except Ronny's and Hermine's last names. Johan is the Scandinavian version of John. Sean is the Irish version of John so I used Johan. Bolle means "roll" and since Rowling is pronounced "rolling", that's the name I used. Everything else, however, is real and I got it from Harry Potter International at and they have translations for English (duh), German, Dutch, Norwegian (duh), Swedish, French, Italian, Polish, Finnish, Hungarian, and Czech. I support the theory that Mrs. Figg is exactly how Harry Potter saw her except she happens to be a witch too. None of that Polyjuice Potion or Age charm or anything. Let her stay weird and old. I'd like some reviews! E-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com. I love all your little comments! Be nice to me! See ya later!


	24. Unsung Heroes

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-four: Unsung Heroes

In January, I went to visit my mother with Harry at the estate. It was freezing, windy day but luckily, I didn't have to deal with it. I Flooed us to the large fireplace in the Receiving Hall. Flooing with Harry is a pain, literally. The huge baby carriage presses against my legs, threatening to break them in half in each trip. Lily says that I'm just overreacting but I digress. 

I walked Harry across the smooth wooden floors of the large mansion into the sitting room where my mother sat nursing a cup of tea. "Mother, hello."

"Why, hello, James. And you've brought my grandson with you." She smiled.

I nodded as I unbuckled numerous belts and straps in order to release Harry. "I thought it would be a good change of pace." I handed him over to my mother, who cradled him in her arms. 

"He looks more and more like you," she commented then frowned. "Is there some sort of magic blocker on this outfit?"

I squirmed. "No," I admitted. "So, it's not just our imagination."

Our biggest worry at this time was Harry's lack of magical ability. Most babies have what the baby books referred to as a "hum". Muggles can't sense it but Wizarding folk can. This "hum" is caused by the building magical energy developing inside their bodies. This energy can sometimes react to other vessels of magic, such as Animagi when they are transformed. In an effort to see whether or not we were feeling the hum and just not knowing it, Lily and I had Sirius and Peter transform and made Harry touch them. If he had the energy, they all should have felt a magical spark, much like what Muggles call "static electricity". But no matter how Harry rubbed them or pulled on their fur, nothing happened. Even I served as a test subject and yet nothing occurred except Harry being extremely entertained by all these grown-up men turning into cuddly animals and back again. The books assured us that not having the "hum" was not a definite sign of being a Squib because about ten percent of cases who did not have the "hum" turned out to be perfectly normal wizards and witches. Of course, that also means that ninety percent _did_ turn into Squibs. We just kept telling each other that _someone_ has to be that ten percent, right? However, it was still disconcerting to have people hold him and then give him that fish-eye look. 

My mother gave me a worried glance. I could tell what was running through her mind. An old wives tale goes that if a pureblood marries a Muggle-born and has children, they'll all be Squibs in order to punish them to breaking the code. 

"The books say that it isn't a sure sign of Squibness," I said quickly. 

"I didn't say anything. Well, he's nearly six months, isn't he? He'll show the first signs soon enough."

"Of course," I answered more confidently than I felt. 

"Oh," my mother said suddenly, "I found that book you wanted. The _Moon Skipper_ one? I'll have one of the elves send it down." She called out, "Elf!"

A House Elf suddenly appeared at her side. "Mistress?"

"Please fetch the children's book in Master James' old bedchambers."

"Right away, Mistress." With a crack, he was gone. A few moments later, he returned, book in hand. "Mistress, here is the book Mistress requested."

"Thank you." My mother took the book gently and the House Elf bowed at her and me and with another crack, he was gone. She handed the book to me. It was very old, the cover faded from age and sun. I flipped through it absently, glancing at the glossy illustrations before putting it in the baby carriage. 

"I'm sure Harry will enjoy it," I commented. "Thank you for finding it."

"No trouble. I really should clean in there and give you all your baby things for Harry to have. Along with some of your father's things..." she added sadly.

"No, you keep them."

"Just a few bits and pieces your father might have wanted you to have."

I shook my head. "It's alright."

We sat in silence as Harry wriggled on the floor. My mother cast the Heat Blocking charm on the fire grate in case Harry decided to investigate that. Mother sipped her tea as I glanced at the photographs on the wall. "We need some pictures of Harry to hang up here," I commented.

"Hm. I haven't changed them in so long that I had forgotten that it is possible to take new ones."

I looked again at the picture of me with the toy broomstick. "Who runs the company now that Father's gone and I'm not taking it over?"

"Oh, a man named Henderson. A very good man, your father trusted him dearly."

"Did Father always work at the Quidditch Supply factory?"

"Yes. When he left Hogwarts, he went straight to work there with his father, as his father did before him and his father before him. Of course," she added, setting down her tea, "they didn't make Quidditch supplies at the time. It was during the war, you understand. They made high-powered war brooms instead of simple Quidditch brooms, bombs instead of Bludgers and Quaffles, bullets for Muggles instead of Golden Snitches." My mother got up and stared at the crackling fire, hugging herself. She spoke softly, "I remember the day that the workers set aside the war molds and put back the equipment for making Quidditch supplies. Your father invited me to come watch. Many people did. We all cheered when the last bit was taken away. That day, we announced our engagement."

"Why didn't you get married before?" I asked.

"He felt it wasn't right. He wanted to fight but his father wouldn't let him. One night, he sneaked out to enlist but neither the Wizarding army nor the Muggle army would take him. First and foremost because he worked at a factory and they couldn't afford to lose workers that made war supplies. Second, he was too short and too light. They told him he'd die in basic training. He always felt guilty about that, not fighting while other men died. He didn't feel like he should continue his life when other men could not. He felt it wasn't fair. That was your father. He was a very... honorable man. A true Gryffindor." She laughed. "Of course, I am a true Ravenclaw. I told him that he should be delighted that he could not fight because then he could not die or become injured."

"I never knew that. I mean, I knew that Father never fought but I never knew the reason why."

"That is why." My mother continued to stare into the flames. She opened and closed her mouth many times, starting to say something and then stopping just as quickly. Finally, she said, "Would you like to know how I fell in love with your father?"

That caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting that to fly out of her mouth. "Sure. How did you?"

"It's a very long and hard story for me to tell. I've never told anyone, not even my parents, your grandparents, James. But besides the people who were there at the time, no one knows the story I am about to tell you."

"Go on," I practically whispered. My parents didn't seem the type to hold deep dark secrets, hidden for about forty years. 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright. It was around 1940, your father and I were fifteen years old. The war against the Muggle Hitler and the Dark Wizard Grindelwald had been going on for a year then. The blitz began in that same year. England and Scotland suffered heavy attacks. Wizards and Muggles alike had to carry around gas mask everywhere and the bombings were frightful. The Minister became very concerned over our, Wizarding children, safety. There was nothing to done for the Muggle-borns since Muggle law governed them once outside of school. The people demanded action to be taken and so they created Tectum Bunkers."

I sucked in a breath. The Tectum Bunkers are considered one of the worst mistakes of modern Wizarding history. Intended as protection for Wizarding children, it denied access to those who truly needed protection: Muggle-borns. Only the very wealthy could even afford to send their children there. Once there, it was the "closest thing to Hell". Years later, it came out that children were abused and tortured by their deranged guards. They had no outside contact for months at a time, there was very little light, and the children were never allowed to step outside (they Flooed straight to Hogsmeade). They were completely at the mercy of their guards. Now, I had known all this from having learned it in History of Magic ages ago. Although I knew all that, it never once clicked that my parents had been alive during that time. "Did you... were you sent there?"

"Yes. Along with many others, I spent the summers of the war within the bunkers."

"But... the bunkers... horrible things happened there..."

My mother answered, "The bunkers were very bleak and dark, as the books tell you. I shared a bunker with two other girls, as did everyone. The girls were a year older than me and were very dear friends to each other. Their names were Vevina Glenda and Amaranta Owena. None of my friends could afford to go to the bunkers so I was alone for all my summers. The girls were beautiful, I remember, like spokewitches for beauty products. They were both blonde and their hair flowed down their backs in waves. My black hair just hung limp and lifeless. I was never considered pretty by any standards. The guards would joke to each other about my plainness." 

"Mother..." I said in an attempt to soothe her. 

"In comparison to the other girls there, I was rather plain. Even my own sisters were of a far greater mold than I. Anyway, every night at ten o'clock, it was lights out. There was a guard assigned to our wing." She shivered. "His name was Orson Ferrol."

"I've never heard of him."

"That's because he was arrested and sent to prison for petty burglary and then afterwards drank himself to death before you were born. That was _after_ the war of course. He was our guard during the time in the bunkers." She clutched herself tighter and shut her eyes as if trying not to see something in the fire. "He'd walk down the corridor, his shoes clicking against the rock floor. He would go into every room, one by one. Finally, he'd enter our room... I was nearest the door and he'd always walk right by me, going sometimes to Vevina first, sometimes to Amaranta first." She barely breathed out, "I can still hear them whimpering in their beds."

I stared at my mother in shock. "Mother... you can't be saying..." I couldn't even bring myself to utter such a notion. I knew that such things happened, I had read about it and Professor Binns had lectured on it but it was so distant, so cut and dry when I learned about it in class. It was just another pointless detail buried in along with other meaningless trivia I had to know and then quickly forgot. Never once did I think about how those girls had names. Never in all my days did I realize that my mother was a victim of such... unspeakable things. 

My mother ignored me and continued on, breathlessly, "When he was satisfied with one, he would move on to the other. I always buried myself under the covers in a vain attempt to blot it out, pretend it wasn't happening. I would lie there, frozen stiff, unable to scream or breathe or do anything except lie there and hear it happen. Every single night. When he was finished with my bunkmates, he'd come over to me and sit on my bed. He would lead in close so I could hear him through the covers." She reached a shaking hand to her right ear. "I can still feel his hot breath. He'd say, 'Would you like me to do that to you?' I wouldn't say anything. He would say, 'Well, I won't. Do you want to know why?' He'd always pause, as if I was supposed to answer. Maybe I _was_ but I never had a voice. He would answer, 'Because you are so ugly, you are not even worth my time. Remember that, Abby Skyla. No man will ever want you, not even if he was desperate.' Then he'd laugh and leave."

The words flew out of my mouth as if the thought had started in my tongue rather than my skull. "That's sick." My mother didn't answer. "Did anyone ever do anything? Was there any punishment?"

"As in?"

"Something! Surely he was called in for war crimes!"

My mother shook her head. "No, he was never arrested for what he did. Neither were any of the other men who did the same."

"Mother!" I cried. "Why did you never say? Why didn't you bring this up and sent him to court?"

"What good would that have done, James? He still did it. Does it matter whether or not he went to prison for it? In the long run, would that make any difference?"

"It's not right," I countered. "It's not right for a monster like him to just go free. There is no excuse for what he did, Mother. None."

"Well, he's dead now so it would be pointless to dredge that up again." My mother shook herself to compose herself and continued on, "Anyway, as I said, the guards would joke about their exploits to each other. They often talked around the boys there. One day, when I was sixteen, in 1941, we were leaving the dining hall. Boys and girls were segregated and we ate at the same times. We rose at the same time and we all left at the same time, girls going in one direction, boys in the other, in perfect queues. One day, as I said, your father 'accidentally' knocked into me. He left a crumpled note in my fist, with the message, 'Read it when you're alone'."

"Did you?" I asked. 

My mother nodded. "Yes, later that day, I went to the toilet and read it there." She paused and her eyes were shining with emotion. "It was beautiful. It was a love letter from him to me. He had been trying to catch my eye since the end of fourth year but I had never noticed him before. He sat next to me in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy but I was so involved with schoolwork that I had just never noticed the Gryffindor sitting next to me. Anyway, when he had heard the guards joking about my looks, he felt the need to confess his feelings on the subject. It was very... passionate." I stifled a chuckle. I had a hard time imagining my father composing a work of romantic thought. He always seemed to be... in control. "I read it over and over. I carried it everywhere, clutched it in bed when Orson came in. I kissed it when he would mock me. It was the strength I needed. I knew that his words couldn't hurt me when Harold Potter believed that I was special."

"What did you do? Did you write back?"

"Oh, I didn't dare. I was terrified that the guards would hurt me. They wanted the boys and girls separated at all costs. Even writing that note was huge risk for your father. However, I did try to make eyes with him across the room during meals." She sighed. I let out a tiny laugh. The image of my reserved mother batting her eyelashes at my father was just too much. "Well, I was young once, James," she argued, smiling. "Three days later, he bumped into me again and deposited another note into my hand. Then another two days after that. Then the next day and he would give me a note every day. Mostly, it was like a one-sided dialogue. He told me about his family, his interests, his friends, his likes and dislikes, what he thought about. But he never failed to say what he thought of me."

"Did you write back then?"

"No," she admitted, "he told me not to. He didn't mind getting in trouble but it wasn't worth getting me in trouble as well. He said my happy face at mealtimes was enough."

"Did you two ever have a conversation? Face to face?"

"Well," my mother said devilishly, "here's where your father truly won my heart. As I told you, the guards were... you know. All the boys knew about it and it made them furious. Especially since the guards in questions joked about their exploits with the pretty ones and mocked the plainer girls. One day, in early July, your father wrote me a note saying to meet him at 9:30 PM in the intersection between the boys' and girls' section and to bring my nightgown. It was very risky, since we weren't allowed to be same area besides during mealtimes."

"Did you go?" I asked, suddenly enthralled. 

"Yes. My heart was beating so fast. I had no idea what he wanted. When I arrived, he was waiting for me anxiously. That was the first time I had ever heard him speak to me. I can still hear him now." She paused, obviously savoring the memory. Then, she continued, "He had with him his pajamas. He told me to change into his pajamas and let him wear my nightgown. I asked him why he wanted to do something so foolish. He had to tell me quickly because time was running out."

"What did he want?"

"The boys had enough with this abuse of their female comrades and they wanted to take action. In one room, a boy was switching places with a girl in every wing where the guards hurt them. For my wing, Harold was replacing me." My mother began speaking faster and more excited as if she was now unable to stop telling the story. "We changed quickly, not looking at each other of course. He told me where his room was and I told him where mine was and then, before I ran off, he grabbed me and kissed me." My mother smiled slyly. "My first kiss. I nearly fell down from shock and he looked like he could barely believe he just did that but we managed to regain our senses. I rushed to the room. Seconds before lights out, I leapt into the room." My mother laughed. "I was terrified at first. There were two big men sitting on one bed, playing cards and I suddenly felt very vulnerable. They stopped playing when I came in and asked if I was Abigail Skyla. I answered that I was. Then Liam Arlen, who would later be your godfather as you know, said there was no need to be frightened and Elvin Gareth invited me to come play with them if I wanted in that laughing voice of his." She shook her head, chuckling. "They acted like they had always known me and I was just one of the group. They were all Gryffindors; Harold had been fortunate enough to have his best friends in his room as well. They were so kind to me. When the lights went out, they played by a little lantern that Liam owned and they told me all sorts of things, especially how your father mooned over me to, I quote, 'the point of us wanting to kick him to get him to quit it'. They also said that I wasn't as hideous as the guards made me out to be, that I was rather comely, although, they admitted, that I wasn't their type. But I was your father's type, so who cares, right?"

I was getting anxious. "But, Mother, what happened with Father?"

"Oh, right. Well, we were all frightened for your father because we didn't know what would happen. Your father's friends tried chatting me up to calm my nerves. About ten minutes after lights out, we heard shrieking and loud shouting. Your father had leapt out of my bed when Orson had walked past it and attacked him as well as the other boys in the other wings." My mother laughed. "Oh, there was chaos! Barely anyone knew what was going on. Finally, the situation was resolved and the supposed ringleaders identified. Whether all the boys punished were or not, I'll never know. All I know is that your father was regarded as a fire-starter and was sentenced to solitary confinement for two whole weeks."

"You're joking!"

"No." My mother smiled in an empty-headed way. "But I was head over heels in love your father by then. Nothing could stop me from loving your father. Well, I found out that one of the younger boys delivered his food three times a day. Guess who it was?"

"Who?"

"A six-year-old named Roger Black."

"Truly?"

"Yes." She quirked her mouth in a mischievous way. "So, I found this little boy and gave him a note I had written to your father to deliver with his food. Now, this was quite against the rules. Your father was to have no outside communication and I would have been severely punished if I had ever been found out. Oh, the Black family was furious at me, exploiting their youngest sibling like that, and at him, for agreeing to help with such a scandal."

"Did you write everyday?"

"Three times a day. One note for every meal. Vevina and Amaranta thought I was mad and I was. But I couldn't control myself. I didn't even care if I was caught, it didn't matter anymore. I would do it all over again in a second."

"They let him out eventually, right?"

"Of course. They tried to make his life miserable afterwards but we managed to write anyway. At Hogwarts, it was slightly easier. Once we were old enough to leave the bunkers, we could see each other more often." My mother looked up at the ceiling. "Your father may have never fought in a war or won a duel or anything that most would consider heroic but I know that your father is my hero. Now and forever. I don't care what others say, no one else compares." 

I tried to see my father as my mother would have seen him. At age sixteen, dressed in a girl's nightgown, fighting with a depraved guard. Suddenly, my heart swelled with pride. My mother was right: my father never fought in a war, won any medals, or even mentioned in the paper but my father stood up for the dignity of my mother and those other girls without any hope of reward and not even receiving one after all. All other heroes that I had been taught to worship paled in comparison. 

"Mother?" I said softly.

"Yes, James?"

"You are very lucky."

"I am?"

"Yes. I would have loved to see Father do that."

My mother smiled. "I wish you could have been there." She sighed and glanced down at Harry, who was entertaining himself with kicking his feet into the air. "Are you bored, dear?" she asked him.

"It's getting late," I admitted sadly. "We should go."

"Of course. Lily wants her boys back someday," my mother joked. I picked Harry up. He yelped at me for the interruption in his wriggling time. I held him out to my mother who took him for a hug and kiss and then I placed him in the carriage, which he disliked extremely. 

"Goodbye, Mother," I said and then added to Harry, "Say bye-bye to Grandmother. Bye-bye..." Harry seemed more interested in shoving his hand down his mouth than waving goodbye so I left it at that. 

*** ***

At Harry's bedtime, I decided to try out reading to him from _Travels of the Moon Skipper_ just for old times' sake. I had always extremely enjoyed it. Other children always complained that it was too long, too boring, and the ending was rotten, but I could hear it again and again. For awhile, I had wondered why I enjoyed it when others did not.

It had been years since I had last heard the story. The book has a handwritten note from Liam inside, saying "May you travel farther and faster, little one. Love from your godfather, Liam" addressed to me. It was one of the few presents I received for my birth since many assumed I would be dead before I turned six at the latest so there was little point in bothering. 

Harry lay in his crib passively as I sat down in the rocking chair nearby to begin to read. If Harry had been older, it would have been too long for one sitting but since I was reading more to myself than him, I continued long after Harry had drifted off. 

The story is of a typical young wizard named Bade who discovers one day that he can walk on moonbeams. By walking over moonbeams, he can cross great distances and even travel to distant stars (forgetting that whole "vacuum of space would kill him" thing, of course). He somehow discovers that an evil tyrant in some kingdom nearby had actually usurped the throne from the real king, who has since died. Shock of all shocks, his mother's previous husband (who is dead too. How convenient) was the next in line after the real king and his older brother, Kato, is the heir. So, the brothers travel to get the throne back and along the way Bade falls in love with a warrior-type woman named Sulwyn. So, they win and they find out that Kato is not the heir but rather Bade is because Kato is actually the nephew of Bade's mother but his parents died soon after his birth and she just adopted him during her marriage to the next in line man. However, Bade realizes that Kato is a much wiser man than he is and would make a better king so his only duty as king is to resign and crown Kato as his successor. Bade then returns home to marry Sulwynn and live a rather normal life from there after.

Of course, the reason for everyone hating it is clear. Everyone wants Bade to become king and become all-powerful; that's the way that most fairy tales go. But I guess I had a little piece of my parents in me. Bade played his part in restoring the throne to the rightful owner. It wasn't about becoming powerful or getting rich; it was about liberating a people and providing them a fair and kind ruler. Even though Bade is the next in line, he knows that he isn't the right man for the job. After all the work he does, he picks a regular life. I guess that always appealed to me; a cozy little end for the hero. I suppose Bade reminds me of my father now. Choosing a simple, little life instead of a glamorous and gaudy one.

I just hope that my son will say that I'm a hero.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: AAA! Only five more days until the fifth book and I'm no where near done! This week is going to be solid writing now! Anyway, I felt a little nervous about adding that whole thing with the bunkers but it wouldn't leave me alone so in it went. I hope I didn't offend anyone. Rape is wrong, people. Nothing justifies it. Anyway, the idea of the bunkers was inspired by the fic "Darkness Dying" by Iniga (she mentions the "safehouses" in Chapter 3), especially the aspect of little light and not being allowed outside. That fic is actually really fascinating. "Tectum" is Latin for "protection, hiding, shelter". Check it out on ff.net. Special thanks for the people at the Sugarquill for helping with World War II trivia (I didn't even know about the gas masks! Fascinating stuff) so I could provide better background for Mrs. Potter's story. Yikes! It's 3:35 AM now! I need to head to bed! Please review this! I want to know what you think! You can compare and contrast "Darkness Dying" and my fic, it might be fun! Press the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	25. Ol' Blue Eyes

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling. Man, I'm getting sick of typing that.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-five: Ol' Blue Eyes

February was the early part of the window for Harry to show signs. We waited patiently for the son of Head Boy and Girl to wow us all. February came and went. Harry still did not hum and nothing un-Muggle-like happened. The books assured us six months was a prodigy age. Unless Harry was going to be the next Merlin, six months was a long shot. But doesn't every parent want to raise the next Merlin? Especially if those parents were two of the brightest Hogwarts ever had? I couldn't help but feel a little let down by Harry's lack of talent.

Still, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom were nearing their first years. Ron, like his older brothers, had shown signs promptly at seven months, not one day off. "You could plan a party around it," Arthur boasted. On October 1st of the previous year, Ron had stunned the Ministry by Apparating on to Arthur's desk. Molly had come to deliver a package Arthur had forgotten and Ron apparently decided to take a short cut to arrive ahead of his mother. Molly's only warning was the burst of magical energy before Ron Disapparated from his carriage to his father's desk. The distance was only several metres but unexpected. Neville, on the other hand, had still not shown signs. Even as I write this, he still hasn't shown any. He hummed like motorbike but had failed to perform. The Longbottoms were, understandably, concerned. "The energy's _there_," Olivia lamented to Lily once during a visit, "but Neville's just not _using_ it. The experts say it's a 'lack of interest'. Neville just doesn't _want_ to. So, they told me to make life harder for him."

"Did you?" Lily inquired.

"Of course! I put everything out of his reach, I use my magic even when it's rather inconvenient, we even try to scare Neville out of his wits every other day. But does Neville use magic? Nope. I put something out of his reach, he just crawls to it like a simple Muggle baby, no offense Lily. When we try to scare him into Apparating, he just starts like anyone else would. Or cries. Recently, I swear, he's giving us these _looks_, like he's trying to tell us, 'Hey, the whole shouting into my ear thing is not shocking anymore. I can see you two coming a mile away.' Oh, I don't know what to do! All I want is for him to just levitate something, anything, just for a few seconds, then I would be able to sleep better at night. Just one time, and I'll be happy. Of course," Olivia added, "if Neville is a Squib, we'll still love him just the same. He's our little boy. Nothing can change that."

On March 1st, we went to the Weasleys' house to celebrate Ron's first birthday. Molly's family came to fill the house to packed and Arthur's remaining brothers came to celebrate. The dull-eyed Berendice was missing but no one seemed to care or even to acknowledge it as unexpected. It was a much more upbeat atmosphere than the celebration of Ron's, who was then Robert, birth.

When we Flooed in, there was noise everywhere. Ron sat upright in the middle of sitting room, surrounded by bright packages, grinning at everyone around him. After putting the carriage into Lily's Minimizer bag, we crouched down to be eye-level with Ron. 

"Hey, birthday boy," Lily cooed. "Who's one year old today?" Ron beat his palms against the carpet and squealed. 

"You're certainly a little happy fella," I remarked, ruffling his downy red hair. "You have all these presents! What are you going to do with them all?" 

"Pluh," Ron replied.

"Play, Ron," a young voice corrected behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Percy standing there.

"Plah," Ron repeated.

"Play. Ay. Ay. Ay."

"Ah. Ah. Ah."

"No, Ron," Percy groaned and moved around to sit next to Ron. "Puh-lay. Ay. Ay. Ay."

"Ah. Ah. Ah."

"No, I know you can do this, Ron!" Percy encouraged, looking very determined. "Ay."

"Ah."

"Ay."

"Ah."

"AY."

"Ay."

Percy cheered. "You did it, Ron! Now, puh-lay," Percy said slowly.

"Puh-lay," Ron answered. He was so cute. 

"MUMMY!" Percy bolted up and ran into another room. "MUMMY! Ron said another word!"

"Mum, mum, mum," Ron repeated. 

"Fancy little talker, isn't he?" Lily commented to me, setting Harry down beside him. "The book said that magical children talk earlier than Muggle children because magic depends a lot on knowledge of how words work and vocal skills. They also say more words faster."

"Ron's a bright one, though," Molly added, coming near as Percy pulled her by the hand. "Most don't start talking until around their first birthday but Ron said his first word at seven months."

"Really?" I asked. "Did the others?"

"No, they all started talking around their first year or a little later. I think it's because Ron is around all these people all day, chattering around him."

"What did he say?" Lily wondered.

"The usual. 'Ma'. He's started saying 'Mum' a few weeks ago. He's quite talkative, actually." Molly sighed and looked down at Percy. "Okay, Percy, what did Ron say now?"

"Watch!" Percy ordered excitedly and swooped down to the ground. "Ron, say 'play'."

"Puh-lay," Ron responded obediently. Percy beamed.

"Very good, Ron," Molly praised. "That must his... I've lost count how many words he has in his vocabulary. As I've said, he's talkative."

At that moment, an owl flew in. Molly plunked it from the sky and tore the letter off. 

Ron pointed at the flapping bird and said, "Owl."

"That's right, dear, it's the post owl," Molly explained and then bent down. "And guess what? It's a birthday card from your big brother Bill!" Indeed it was. It was simply a folded piece of parchment with a drawing of Hogwarts, complete with Quidditch pitch in the back, charmed to make the wind rustle the trees and for the Whomping Willow to twist and writhe. A little red-haired person stood by the castle, waving.

"That's Hogwarts!" Percy exclaimed, "Look, Ron, it's Hogwarts!"

"That's a very nice drawing," Lily remarked. "What's inside?"

"Let's see," Molly said in that overly excited manner that anyone speaking to a young baby uses, opening the card up. "It reads: 'Dear Ron, Sorry I can't be there on your big day. Only ten more years until you can sit exactly where I'm sitting right now. Everyone here loves your picture. They think you're darling. Convince Mum to take more of you. Have fun today! Love, your biggest brother Bill.' Oh, and he got you a present, too!" She took out the little blue silk sachet and read the note tied on to it, "'Dear Mum, this little thing does something really neat. Won't spoil the surprise. Just be careful when opening it, don't look right into it, point away from anyone's face. A third year girl got this for me (don't worry, I paid her) after I showed her the picture of Ron and said it was his birthday in March. It will only last a few minutes. Write back to tell me how he reacted, we're all dying to know. Love, Bill.' Okay, let's open it up." Carefully pointing the bag's opening away from her and above her children's heads, she pulled the string and the bag fell open. 

At first, nothing happened. Then there was a loud BANG, which caught everyone's attention. The room fell silent as we watched bright stars shoot out of the bag. They glowed all sorts of colours and filled the room. Ribbons of light shot out the sack next, twirling above Ron's head like dragons in flight. There was a roar and a glowing lion the size of a kitten leapt out of the bag and bounded around the room before vanishing into glittering dust. Bubbles filled with rainbows floated out of the bag and bobbled about the room. There were then more stars rushing from the bag. Glittering butterflies followed the stars and flapped around everyone present. The children leapt up to catch a few. The butterflies were caught and flapped their wings as they sat on their palms before vanishing into glitter. Finally, there were more stars than the previous two times. A group of stars formed the words "Happy Birthday, Ron" before they all disappeared with a series of bangs. At last, there was silence. 

"Do it again, Mummy!" Charlie exclaimed.

"More! More!" The twins ordered, jumping up and down. 

Molly tied the string again and untied it. She frowned. "I think that's all, everyone. It can be only used once, I think." Everyone moaned. 

"BOOM!" Ron shouted. "Boom, boom, boom!"

"Yes, Ron, the stars went 'boom' at the end," Molly answered. The rest of party-goers continued their conversations as the twins rushed over.

"I want one, Mummy!" one of the twins whined. 

"Me, too!" the other lamented. 

"Well, perhaps Bill will be able to convince someone to buy him some more at Hogsmeade, how's that sound?" Molly offered.

"But I want one _now_," the first complained.

"Fred, you can't have everything you want when you want it. But I'll ask Bill if he can get some more. Or maybe your Daddy can get some at Diagon Alley."

"When?"

"I don't know. We'll see."

Ron reached out to the twins. The twins grinned at each other. The one on Ron's left, Fred, said, "Which is which, Ron?"

"Say our names, Ron," the other, George, added.

Percy looked quite stern and crossed his arms. "Don't tease him! He's just a baby, he can't tell you two apart yet!" He explained to us, "They're always switching their names around so Ron gets all messed up! It's just mean!"

Ron pointed to Fred and said, "Forge." He then pointed to George and said, "Gred." Ron beamed at them. The twins looked at each other and then burst out laughing. 

"That's funny, Ron!" Fred answered. 

"We're Gred and Forge!" George exclaimed happily. 

"He beat them at their own game," Arthur remarked, coming over as Fred and George rolled on the floor with laughter. 

"That was a pretty clever way to get out of it," Lily remarked. Ron had become disinterested in his chortling twin brothers and was now reaching for Percy's glasses. 

"Ron," Molly said, "Ron, no. Don't touch Percy's glasses."

"You want them?" Percy asked him. Ron strained to grasp them. "Here. Try them on." Percy took off his glasses and put them delicately on Ron's face. 

"Percy, you'll hurt his eyes. Take them off," Molly ordered. She didn't need to say anything because Ron looked down at his lap and they slipped off. Percy took them back and put them on his own face. 

Ron looked at me and reached out for my spectacles. "No," I said softly. "These have to stay on my face, little man." It was then I noticed Ron's eyes. When Ron had been first born, his eyes had been brown. Now, however, his eyes shone a brilliant blue shade. I edged closer to make sure that the light wasn't affecting it but sure enough, they were definitely blue now. 

"Hey, would you look at that? Ron has blue eyes. That's weird because I remember he had brown eyes before. When did that...?"

"It doesn't mean anything!" Molly shouted suddenly. 

"What?" I asked, startled by Molly's behavior. 

"It doesn't mean a thing! So, he has blue eyes now! So what? It doesn't mean anything to going to happen! Ron is perfectly average and normal and he's going to grow perfectly normal and happy! So what if his eyes are blue now?" She was acting like us when someone commented on Harry's lack of hum.

"Molly, I didn't mean anything by it, I just thought it was rather strange."

"Nothing is going to happen to him! He's not going to end up... end up like... well, he just won't! You'll see!" Molly got up, shaking slightly, her eyes filled with fear, and she said in a would-be calm voice, "I'll see if we need more ice." Molly then swept out of the room but no where near the kitchen where the ice was kept. 

"What did I say? I just said his eyes were blue. I didn't mean anything by it," I explained to Arthur, who was wringing his hands.

"Go play with your cousins, you three," Arthur ordered softly. Percy nodded grimly and led his little twin brothers away. "I know you didn't mean anything, James. We're just frightened for our little boy. We don't want to lose him like Virginia," Arthur said quietly. He bent down as well to be level with us. 

"But there's nothing wrong with Ron," Lily answered, "Why is Molly so upset?"

"It's his eyes." Arthur pointed at the eyes in question. We stared at them.

"What's wrong with them? Don't tell me he's blind."

"No, he's sees fine. We're worried that he sees too much, if you get my meaning." Arthur sighed forlornly. "You may or may not remember from Divination, I sure didn't, but the sign of a Seer's Kiss being performed is the subject's eyes turning blue three days after the Seer's death. And three days after Virginia passed away, Ron's eyes were blue. Natural-born Seers don't always have blue eyes but those who gained the Sight in this way always do."

"So, is Ron a Seer now?" Lily asked.

"We don't know. We know that there is only a one in ten chance that Ron has the ability. Only time will truly tell." Arthur stroked his son's hair. "I know you saw the episode with Virginia talking about that Tom and Ginny, whoever they are. She was like that almost all the time. There was nothing we could do except watch her slowly lose her grip on the outside world. Would you like to see your son suffer like that? We've seen someone close to us already be tormented and then leave us forever, we don't want it happening again. Can you blame us for being scared? We want Ron to live a long, happy normal life. It wasn't fair for Virginia to risk taking that away from him."

"I bet he'll be fine," Lily offered. "One out of ten is pretty much a long shot."

"I know. We keep telling ourselves that. We know you didn't mean any harm by it, James. Molly's just a little sensitive about the kids, that's all."

"Oh, it's alright. I didn't realize that his eyes meant so much," I said meekly. 

"Percy seems really fond of Ron," Lily remarked in an attempt to change the subject.

Arthur laughed. "Yes. It wasn't always like that. There were horrible whisperings about Ron when he was first born, saying that he was a bad omen and such. Children often repeat whatever they hear at home and so children would be cruel to Percy because of Ron. Percy was quite cold to Ron. I once caught him trying to owl post Ron away. It's funny now but it wasn't at the time. We both tried to explain to Percy that Ron wasn't an omen of any kind."

"Well, he seems to like him now," I replied.

"That's because when Ron had his first smile, he was smiling at Percy and his third word after 'ma' and 'da' was 'pear' which we think means 'Percy'. How could he continue to hate him after it's been made so clear that Ron is fond of Percy? They're very attached to each other now. I think Percy feels bad for being so cruel to Ron at first but I feel that Ron has forgiven him already."

"That is so cute," Lily cooed. 

"Percy now regularly defends his baby brother against his playmates' harsh words. And he has made it his personal mission to make his brother the brightest, most advanced baby around. Maybe he'll go into teaching," Arthur suggested.

"Or maybe he is so good at defending others, he should go into law enforcement," Lily suggested brightly then winced. Percy Weatherby had worked in Magical Law Enforcement. "Sorry. Forgot."

If Arthur had noticed the faux pas, he ignored her. "I wonder if we should take the cake out now."

"Well, I'm in the mood for cake," I answered, laughing. We all got up and went into the kitchen. Molly was there now, filling the ice bucket.

"Should we bring out the cake, Molly?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, that's right! I forgot!" Molly went to the oven and took out the previously prepared and frosted cake gently. We "oo"ed and "ah"ed in appreciation. At this moment, the children came in and started screaming, "CAKE!"

"In a minute! Ron has to blow out the candle!" Molly said, stepping forward to place it on the kitchen table. 

"I'll get him!" Percy offered and rushed out. Arthur darted out after him, calling out, "Percy! You're too small to lift Ron! Let me get him!" as the rest of the guests laughed. 

Everyone came in to look at the cake, told Molly how wonderful it looked ("Thank you!"), and Ron was carried in by Arthur. Ron was placed in his high chair and Molly lit the single candle. On the count of three, we all sang "Happy Birthday to you".

"Make a wish, Ron," Molly said sweetly. 

"Boom!" Ron answered, slamming the high chair tray with his palms. 

"Good enough. Blow out the candle!" Arthur and Molly bent down on both sides of Ron as Ron looked at them in confusion. Arthur blew gently as Ron's head turned in a direction close to the cake and everyone clapped. Even Ron clapped but it's doubtful that Ron knew why everyone was clapping. 

The cake was divided up among the guests as Ron was led back inside the sitting room. As we chatted around the table happily, there came a shout from the sitting room. Charlie rushed in and ordered, "You have to see this! Look at what Ron's doing!" We all came inside the room to see what the fuss was about.

Lily and I gasped when we saw what was happening. Harry did not know how to sit up on his own yet and Ron seemed to have found that out and offered some assistance to his younger friend. Ron had Harry by the hands and was pulling Harry up to a sitting position. After much effort, Ron managed to pull Harry upright but when he let go, Harry fell backwards immediately. 

Harry let out a squawk of annoyance and pounded his fists against the ground. Then he was silent and Ron tried to raise him up again. This was repeated many times as the adults watched with awe at the cooperation of the two babies. Finally, Harry didn't fall back and remained in a somewhat slouched sitting position, which was farther than Harry had been before. Lily and I clapped and rushed to Harry's side, exclaiming that he had did it. 

"That was neat!" Charlie commented. 

After our excitement with Harry sitting up, we returned to talking about nonsense and eating cake. An hour before the party's conclusion, there was a clatter of a plate falling to the floor and a splat of a smashed cake. The guests looked around in confusion at the source of the noise. Then Percy cried out, "Ron! No!" 

Percy darted in between the adults' legs and ran to his brother, who was attempting to eat the cake from off the ground. "That's dirty! Don't eat that!" Percy commanded.

Ron screamed wordlessly at him and then, "Mine!" To prove his point, Ron waddled over to the cake, squatted down, grabbed a chunk of gooey cake in his little fist, and thrust it into his mouth, frosting smeared all over his face and hand.

"No! Bad Ron!" Percy reprimanded. 

"Percy let Mummy handle it," Arthur said calmly then did a double-take. "Molly! Look at that! Ron's walking!"

"My goodness!" Molly muttered, then crouched, curling her fingers to beckon him forward. "Ron, come to Mummy! Come here, my dear."

Ron's face lit up when he saw his mother so he waddled awkwardly towards her, reaching out for her. "Mum!" After several moments, he reached her, lost his balance, and fell into her arms, grinning. 

"Wow, what a day!" Lily remarked as we were leaving. "Two babies reaching huge milestones in one day. Absolutely amazing."

*** ***

March went quickly. Harry did nothing. Absolutely nothing. _Now_ we were worried. April was the eighth month. The eighth month is the end of the "normal" period. If Harry still did nothing when April had ended, that would be the time to be concerned. We watched for any sign of Harry doing anything remotely magical (besides being cute, of course). It was during that time of anxious waiting that Albus Dumbledore came to visit us.

Professor Dumbledore had been the Transfiguration professor when my parents had been in the school, back when the windows had all the glass removed and were replaced with wood so even Hogwarts was plunged into darkness. Such is war. Dumbledore is also the man responsible for bringing Grindelwald down, some say in a personal duel. Dumbledore became Headmaster for our first year. It is because of Dumbledore that Remus was admitted at all. The year before our first year, the Lupins had asked if there was any way for Remus to attend Hogwarts. Headmaster Dippet had sent back a flat-out "no". When Dumbledore took over, he visited the Lupins personally and said that there was no reason Remus _couldn't_ go as long as precautions were taken. So, an abandoned house in Hogsmeade was bought by the school, boarded up and warded so even if a rampaging dragon couldn't get in (or, rather, a rampaging werewolf couldn't get out), and a Whomping Willow was planted over the entrance to the tunnel leading up to house. As far as Dumbledore knows, Remus spent every full moon within the house. As we both know, this isn't true, but I've already explained that. 

Dumbledore was a kind-hearted soul who seemed to genuinely like everyone, even Snape. However, I was not personally close to the man, as Remus was, so I was surprised when he came to visit Lily and I in our home. 

Dumbledore did not warn us that he would be coming. So, when he knocked on our door, we were lounging around in our slob clothes and not prepared for visitors. It was Lily who answered the door as I continued to play with Harry, who was using his box of glowing balls that Sirius had given him when he was still a fetus.

Not seeing who was at the door, I yelled, "Tell whoever it is that we don't want anything and to go away!"

"Please, come in," I heard Lily stutter. I growled with frustration. Marching up to the door, I demanded, "Can't a man and woman enjoy one afternoon with their son? Is that so much to ask?"

"I do not wish to interrupt any quality time between you and your son," Dumbledore explained softly, smiling slightly. "But unfortunately, I feel I must."

I stammered at him, feeling very foolish. Lily, who was very red, gestured towards the couch, saying, "Please sit down." 

"I thank you," Dumbledore replied as he crossed the floor to sit on our couch. Lily escaped to the kitchen to find something to offer him. He fell into the couch with a sigh and looked at Harry, who was staring up at him. "You have a beautiful son."

"Thank you, Professor," I whispered, nervously. 

"Please, we are all adults now. Call me Albus," Dumbledore requested. "Impressive little toy he has there. My granddaughter has one just like it."

"I didn't know you were married," I admitted. "Or had children or grandchildren."

"Yes, we professors often keep our private lives very private indeed."

"Do you have many grandchildren?"

"I have five at present. The youngest is around your son's age. The oldest is in Hogwarts right this minute, hopefully studying for her N.E.W.T.s." He looked at me with a playful look in his eye. "But I wouldn't bet on it."

"Does she do well?" I asked, coming over to sit beside him, feeling much more at ease than I did when he first arrived. He always had that effect.

"Well is a rather subjective term, I think. She is satisfied with her marks. I think that is all that matters. However, I think her father would not mind slightly higher marks but he does not push her unjustly. He is satisfied as well, he just wants the best for her. As all parents do." I suddenly felt as if Dumbledore was implying something about my situation as well. He had a way of doing that too. Lily came back at this point with tea biscuits on a plate, which she hastily set down on the table. 

"The tea will be done in a minute," Lily explained before sitting down. Dumbledore busied himself with talking kindly to Harry as Lily and I looked at each other over his back, asking each other with our eyes whether we knew why Dumbledore had come. Neither of us knew.

"Professor," Lily asked hesitantly, "I was wondering..."

"Albus, please."

"Right. I was wondering... about Hogwarts."

Dumbledore straightened up to look at Lily. "Yes?"

"I heard there's a book... that has all the names of every witch and wizard."

"Yes, it writes down the name of the magical child at the moment of their birth. Every year, we look through the list for anyone coming of age, and send them their Hogwarts letter."

Lily brightened. "So, you know now who is going to Hogwarts in eleven years?"

"Yes."

"Well, I was just wondering..."

"No, I can not tell you if your son is on the roster."

Lily slumped in her seat and I cursed in my head. Lily whined, "Why not?"

"Because that's half the fun," Dumbledore answered brightly. "Besides, Muggle-born wizards and witches are not privy to such information, why should pureblood families?"

"Well," I suggested, "let's say hypothetically, a family wasn't sure if their son... child was a Squib or not. Don't they deserve some peace of mind?"

"But what if this hypothetical child is a Squib?" Dumbledore asked.

"At least we..." Lily shouted then corrected, "THEY, they would know one way or the other!"

"How old is Harry?" 

"Who said we were talking about Harry?"

"How old is Harry?"

"He'll be nine months old April 30th."

"So, he is eight months old now, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Then he is in the proper age group for his first sign."

Lily slapped her hand on to her lap in irritation. "But he doesn't _hum_."

"Some children do not hum and become fine wizards and witches," Dumbledore answered. 

"And some children do not hum and become Squibs, Professor!" I stated. 

Dumbledore sighed as if he were dealing with toddlers who did not want to go to bed. "You've probably heard this a million times but _all children are different_. Even in Muggles, one child may walk at eight months, another may walk at his first birthday. One child may talk when he is two and another child may not speak until he is five. I could tell you a hundred stories about perfectly well-to-do wizards and witches who showed their first signs beyond the so-called 'reasonable' age. I had a very dear friend who could Charm circles around me who showed his first sign the day before he received his Hogwarts letter. I also can tell you of Squibs who seemed show signs at six months but were never on the roster to begin with. The times given in the books are averages, nothing more. You are just getting yourselves into a lather over something very small in the scheme of things. If he shows his signs, then that's wonderful but if he doesn't, life will move on. He'll make his way in another way."

"Sorry, Professor," we whispered, looking down at our laps.

"Albus. You are no longer students. Yes, you were very fine students and it's always the very best students," he chuckled, "who have this problem. Why, just a few months ago, Frank Longbottom and his wife, Olivia, stormed into my office, demanding to see the roster. I didn't show them of course. Every year, I have the brightest students coming in with their seven-month-old children, wondering why they haven't showed signs yet. Always. I never get those who were the bottom of the class barging in. That's because they aren't perfectionists. He's a baby," he concluded lightly, "not an essay. Leave him be."

"Yes, sir," we promised half-heartedly. 

"Now, I can discuss what I came here for. I'd like to say I came to look at your darling son but I'm afraid this is not the time for light-heartedness." 

"Then what have you come here for?" I asked.

Dumbledore sighed as he stood. He began to pace around us. "You are well aware of the rising force of the Dark Forces. The casualties are mounting. At least we have the full support of the Ministry but," he reflected, shaking his head, "it is not enough. Lord Voldemort must be stopped. If we eliminate Lord Voldemort, then the rest of his Death Eaters will crumble."

"But it's not that simple," Lily answered.

"No, it's not. I never said that it was. But as time wears on, more people lose their lives and families are shattered. The Ministry is a wonderful asset but it is not enough, not now. Maybe, if they had taken him more seriously earlier on, they could have ended this years ago but he is too powerful. He must be stopped."

"But... you're not telling us anything we don't really know, if you don't mind me saying so," I remarked. "What does this have to do with us?"

"You are well aware of darkness we are now under. And you both were among the brightest, most able students who have ever walked within Hogwarts. It is now that we pull together _all_ our most capable minds and find a way to once and for all destroy Lord Voldemort." Lily and I looked at each other uncertainly as Dumbledore paused to allow this to sink in. "I'm asking you to work out a way to defeat Lord Voldemort." Lily burst out laughing incredulously. "This is not a joke."

"_Us_? James and I finding out a way to defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard that history has ever seen? You must be _mad_!" Lily exclaimed. 

"Why do you think I am mad?"

"Professor, with all due respect, we may have been Head Boy and Girl in our time but it's not like we hold a monopoly on knowledge. What could we think of that the Ministry has not already tried?" Lily explained. We nodded at each other in agreement. 

"Are you saying it's impossible to even try? Are you saying Lord Voldemort is completely indestructible? If I may ask, how many Dark Lords did you study in your time as a student?"

"Over thirty," Lily admitted.

"And how many were defeated?"

"All of them."

"All things are impossible until they are not."

"I'm not saying it's impossible," Lily corrected, "I'm saying that the Ministry has people working day and night to find a solution. We are not going to be the ones with the magic answer."

Dumbledore sighed again. "Well, it seems that you find this task... too daunting to take on. That's alright, I perfectly understand. You have your son to think of, of course, I understand that everyone has priorities..."

"WAIT!" We cried out at once. Dumbledore immediately stopped talking and gave us his full attention.

"We weren't saying it's too daunting," I stammered. "It's just..."

"The Ministry is already working hard on a solution. We fail to see what contribution we could provide," Lily finished. 

"It is important," Dumbledore answered, "that every mind is focused on this problem. What was it that Virginia Weatherby said? 'One day, there will be two drops too much for the dam to hold and it will burst'? Every person counts, no matter how small his or her contribution. Any idea you set forth may bring another idea to someone else who can help someone else better his or her idea which can defeat Lord Voldemort. I'm not asking you to do it alone, but I am asking you to _try_. If no one tries, then nothing will be done and we will all perish." Dumbledore looked at us seriously and added, "If you think this is beyond your abilities, you are free to refuse."

"We'll do it," Lily answered as I nodded my consent. 

"That is all I ask."

"But where do we begin?"

"That you must decide. I can not help there." Dumbledore nodded at us and said, "And now, it is time for me to return to Hogwarts. Please, research and if you strike anything at all, owl me. Perhaps it will be useful to the others that are assisting me as well."

"Let me show you out," I offered, getting up but Dumbledore held his hand, shaking his head.

"That is quite alright. I've taken too much of your time as it is. Enjoy your afternoon, James, Lily, Harry," Dumbledore said, nodding to each of us in turn and then Disapparated. 

"James?" Lily muttered.

"Yes?"

"Did we just get hoodwinked into agreeing to an impossible task?"

"Yes, Lily, we did. Big time."

We winced. "He had us with the 'too daunting' thing," Lily lamented. 

"Never could back down from a challenge like that."

We both groaned at our foolish, but noble, pride.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Okay, sorry if the scene with the Weasleys gave anyone cavities. The more I write Percy, the more I love him. Now I feel bad for the little guy, it's not fair. The dialogue with Dumbledore was really hard because Dumbledore... speaks... like... this... and... that... doesn't... look... good... in... written... dialogue. It also looks like Dumbledore is deadly ill or, as my friend, Naisumi, put it, "like he's trying to seduce someone" which isn't what I wanted Dumbledore to sound like. But I think I got it. Ick! I finally saw what David Thewis looks like. He's supposed to play Remus Lupin. I just saw "Dragonheart" and he plays Einon, the evil, bratty prince that the dragon gives half his heart to. Man, I thought as I watched him in the movie, who thought he would be a good Remus? I can imagine the casting director going, "Gee, let's pick the UGLIEST guy to play one of the most beloved character in the series." Of course, I wanted to show my friends how ugly this guy is so I looked for pictures of him. The pictures of him are actually pretty nice and he does look like Remus Lupin. What did they do to him for "Dragonheart"? Timothy Spaul who is playing Peter Pettigrew _is_ Peter Pettigrew, though. I saw a picture of him and I was like, "Oh my God! It's Peter!" Anyway, the fifth book is coming out in less than twenty-four hours from now and I have still have six months to go before the Potters kick the bucket. But I'll finish anyway, it's not I'll be reading the book soon because I don't have the money to buy and I don't want to buy it in hardcover because it won't match my other paperbacks. Paperbacks are easier to store and carry anyway so I'll wait until someone can lend it to me. Oh, nearly forgot (in my horror over David Thewis but now I feel better), I want reviews! I know half of my theories are probably proved wrong by now, I don't care! I want reviews! Just don't include any spoilers in your reviews! Just press the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! Just review! See ya later!


	26. Signs

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-six: Signs

We crept slowly across the room, bats in hand. Scarcely breathing, we tiptoed across the carpet. We stopped and look at each other. Lily mouthed, "1, 2, 3." And we banged the bats together inches from Harry's head. Harry turned his head towards us bemusedly, raising his eyebrows. We slumped to our knees in frustration.

It was now May and the window was gone. He was now nine months old and he hadn't done anything. Desperate, we took him to the same experts the Longbottoms rushed to for Neville. The team poked and prodded Harry until he cried. After an agonizing hour of examination, the head expert, Doctor Yellowstone, called us into his private office for his conclusions. 

"Well, you have a fine boy," he said. 

"Thank you."

"For a Muggle. Your son has no detectable magical energy and he is nine months old. Are you certain there has been no signs?"

"Yes, we are positive," Lily answered. 

"Is that it? He's a Squib and there's nothing we can do?" I demanded.

He leaned back in his chair. "Well, there is one other diagnosis I can provide." We leaned forward in rapt attention. Any chance, no matter how small, was better than no chance. "He may have a block."

"A block?" Lily wondered. "Is that like 'a lack of interest'?"

"No. A lack of interest is when the magical energy is available but not used. A block is when he has power but he can not gain access to it."

"You mean it's plugged up?" I asked.

"Precisely."

"Is there anything we can do about it?"

"Well, there is a specialist in France who deals with this rare disorder. And there is a procedure for unblocking such a case that his team can perform. However, that is if a block is the problem. I'm sad to say, but your son may just be your regular Squib."

"How much does it cost?" Lily asked, waving off his assertion of Harry being a Squib. 

"Well, the consultation costs about 100, 000 Galleons and the actual procedure is around 300, 000 Galleons," he replied grimly. I could feel my heart stop beating for a moment. 

"Is there..." I wondered desperately, "is there any way Harry could unblock it on his own?"

"Yes, but who knows when Harry will do that. It could be tomorrow or on his tenth birthday. Maybe even later. Maybe never." He sighed. "I'll give you the name and address of the specialist. He speaks English very well so don't worry about writing in perfect French." With that, he took out a slip of paper and wrote the information down. "Good day, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter."

*** ***

We kept the slip of paper pinned to a board in the kitchen. Both of us would pass by, stop, look at it, touch it as if to rip it off, and then walk away. We weren't about to give up. We began to do what the Longbottoms tried: making his life harder, scaring him, etc. We met as much success with it as did the Longbottoms. 

By mid-May, we were beginning to wonder if we would have to swallow our pride and call up the specialist... or admit that Harry wasn't going to Hogwarts. The rest stop by the slip of paper became more frequent and the stay was longer. 

On May 15th, I was ready to head home. I went to Lily's office to wait for her only to find her buried under a mound of paperwork. 

"James! What are you doing here?" Lily asked with a strained, tired smile on her face.

"It's time to go home," I explained. Her head whirled to look at the clock.

"Oh, but I still have so much to do. It was that latest attack. I have to make sure that the cover-ups coincide with Muggle ideals. Oh! I still have things to do at home! Argh!" She turned to me with pleading eyes. "James, can you do a spot of shopping for me? I simply haven't had a spare moment and now we're out of everything." 

"Sure. What do we need?"

"Just about everything. I'll make a list." She scrambled for a spare sheet of parchment and a quill near an inkwell in order to start her list. "And take Harry with you. It's a lovely day, I hear. He'll enjoy some quality time with you. Could you make dinner, too? I have no idea when I'll get home. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, just don't kill yourself with work."

She checked over the list. "I think that's everything. Here. Thanks, you're the best, James."

"Anything for you, Lily," I replied, putting the list in my pocket. "See you tonight." I kissed her on the cheek. 

"I hope."

*** ***

It was a nice day, as Lily said. I pushed Harry in his carriage under the cloudless blue sky and the cheery sun. I let the top down on his carriage so he could enjoy the sky as well. 

Diagon Alley was bustling as usual and it was difficult to navigate Harry through the crowd. I suddenly felt very defensive of him. Although the selling of baby body parts for sinister potions has always been dismissed as an urban legend, it suddenly felt as true as the Goblin Rebellion dates whenever a hag or a remotely suspicious person glanced in our direction. 

I went through the list (while keeping one eye on Harry) and headed into Flourish and Blotts to get parchment and ink as well as some more quills. Harry seemed to like chewing on them. As I left, I heard a small, high-pitched voice call out, "James! James Potter!"

I darted my head around to see who was calling. A young, blonde woman with a rather large chest was waving madly at me as she dashed over in heels. "Camilla? Camilla Yellowbird?"

"Camilla Finnigan now," she corrected with a smile. 

"You're married?" I asked.

"Yes, my husband is over there." She pointed to a sandy-haired man dressed in jeans, staring into an apothecary while holding a Muggle baby carriage with his left hand. 

"And what is his name?"

"Cían Finnigan." She turned around and waved at her husband. "I'm over here! Come on, now!"

Acting like he would be pounced upon any moment, he darted across the street, practically hurling the baby carriage in front of him. He looked very pale and he leaned in close to his wife, whispering, "There's a jar in there."

"No, really," Camilla replied sarcastically. 

"No, no, no. There were _eyes_ in it. _Real_ eyes," he explained in horror. 

"Cían, they aren't human eyes. And even if they were, they were donated..."

"Donated? By who?"

"The dead. You're an organ donor, it's the same thing if they take your heart or liver."

"But they don't bottle it and sell it!"

"No," Camilla explained calmly, "but wizards and witches can donate their body parts if they can be used in potions. They give papers and everything. You can't sell those things if you don't have proof that the deceased agreed to it. Look, I'll explain the whole process when we get home." She turned to me and said, "He's a Muggle."

"Oh," I breathed, "I was wondering. Mr. Finnigan, they don't sell human body parts on Diagon Alley, you probably saw newt eyes or some other animal's eyes. You need to have a special license to even buy human body parts. It's a huge hassle. Most wizarding folk go their whole lives without ever using a human body. Not many potions require it."

Cían didn't look comforted by my statement but Camilla prattled on, "Anyway, this is James Potter, I told you about him. He was our Head Boy. You married Lily Evans, right?" I nodded. "Lily Evans was our Head Girl."

"Oh, that's great," Cían muttered, looking bewildered. "So, you're a wizard then."

"That's right," I answered. 

"So, you do magic tricks, like make things fly across the room?"

"Yes, I can do that."

"Do you do it a lot? Do most wizards?" I couldn't really answer, I never really thought about it before. Camilla looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Am I asking a lot of stupid questions? I'm really new to this, I didn't know magic existed until about five months ago. Quite a shock, really. One minute, I'm putting Seamus, that's my son here," he patted the sandy-haired boy in the carriage, "in his highchair and the next minute, he's up in the air."

"I meant to tell him," Camilla admitted, "but I just kept holding it off. I feel terrible now, leaving Cían to find out like that. I managed to just catch him in time when he fainted."

"He didn't have to tell him that!" Cían protested. 

"Well, I'm not surprised. If I didn't know about magic, I probably would have freaked out too," I replied. 

"Oh, that's all past now. I see you have a wee one, too. What's his name?" Camilla asked.

"Harry," I answered. "He's nine months old."

"Aw, that's so sweet. Well, with you and Lily as his parents, I bet he did something fantastic for his first sign. Probably did it at six months," she remarked. She turned to her husband and explained, "James and Lily were real brains. If one didn't know something, you bet the other did. Top of the class all seven years. Hey, Seamus and Harry will be in Hogwarts together! I just realized, isn't that nice?"

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, glad that Camilla had moved away from Harry's signs.

"So, anyway, what did he do?" Or not. 

"Um..." Lie! My mind screamed at me. Make up something fantastic and run away! "Actually, he hasn't done anything yet." Why can't I be Peter and be able to think of a lie on the spot?

Her face fell. "Oh. That's odd. Nothing at nine months?"

"Maybe it happened when you weren't looking," Cían suggested. "I mean, if I had turned around a second later, I might've missed the whole thing. Maybe, you know, he floated up during the night when you two were asleep and you just never knew." He looked to his wife for approval of his notion. 

"Maybe," I mumbled. 

"You know, I have an idea," Camilla said, smiling, "Perhaps Harry just doesn't know what to do. My sister had problems with her daughter and what they finally did was talk aloud."

"Talk aloud?" I asked.

"Right. Like, 'I really would like that loaf of bread on the table but I just can't get it myself' or 'I wish Harry was right next to me instead of halfway across the room but I just can't get to him' or something like that. They tried that and a week later, she had her first sign," she snapped her finger, "like that."

It didn't sound _too_ stupid to try. "I guess it's worth a shot," I replied.

"Everything is worth a shot," Camilla answered smugly. 

"Camilla, not to rush you, but..."

"Oh, right. We have plans so we have to move on. Great seeing you, James! Tell Lily I said hi!"

"I will," I said, nodding. "Hope you enjoy the Wizarding side of life, Cían."

"I'll try to get used to it. Very interesting stuff and this is just my first visit," he replied. Camilla took the handlebars of the carriage and began pushing as Cían walked alongside her.

"Hope everything works out for you and Harry!" Camilla called out, waving.

"Bye! Thanks for the advice!" I answered and began pushing Harry again. It was very faint but I could hear them talking again.

"That was a nice bloke," Cían said cheerfully. 

"Of course. Shame about Harry though," Camilla replied sadly.

"Why?"

"Nine months is dreadfully late for anyone."

The crowd swallowed them up and I couldn't hear them anymore. I took a deep breath and looked down. Harry was grinning up at the sky and I couldn't help grinning back. I leaned down and teased in an undertone, "Are you wondering what I'm wondering?" Harry squealed. "Are they real now?"

*** ***

"Floo Powder..." I muttered, reading the list. "We certainly use up our Floo Powder, don't we, Harry?" Harry cooed at me. "But where is it?" I scanned the wall of bottles full of brightly coloured powders. "Aha! There's some!" I stretched my arm towards a bottle of green powder but it was out of my reach. Looking to make sure no one was glancing my way, I went on my tiptoes to reach, straining my arms up. I was a few centimetres too short and nearly lost my balance. Just before I crashed into wall of glass bottles, I managed to grab hold of the shelf in front of me and steadied myself. "Phew," I gasped, "that was close. Don't do that, Harry." Keeping one hand on the shelf, I went on my tiptoes again and strained my arm for the bottle. I managed to tap it but not grab a hold on it. I put my arm down and panted. A shadow fell over me and I heard a bottle being picked up. Someone placed the bottom of the bottle on my shoulder. "Thank you," I panted, taking the bottle.

"It was no trouble, James."

I nearly leapt out of my skin. "Lu-Lucius," I stammered as I crashed into the glass bottles. It was not enough force to knock down the whole collection but I could clearly a bottle above me wobble and Lucius looked up. 

A large economy size bottle of Communication Powder (which we also needed) came down towards Lucius' head. An inch before it made contact, I felt a burst of magical energy and the bottle stopped in midair. For a wild moment, I though Harry had finally done it but Harry was looking with great interest at the bottles near him and not at Lucius. It was then I noticed the baby carriage with a pale baby inside. He was trembling and his grey eyes were completely focused on Lucius and the bottle. He was clearly straining under the effort of holding the bottle up. The bottle wobbled slightly in the air as if he was holding the bottle up with his own hands and was losing his grip. Lucius stayed out of the bottle's path and placed his hands around it, obviously to place the bottle back but he couldn't move it. The bottle was held fast in the air. Lucius looked at the boy and said in the soothing manner that one uses when a child has woken up from a horrific nightmare, "Draco. Father is safe now. Release the bottle." Lucius grunted and his hands fell slightly as the bottle was no longer held by Draco's willpower. Draco, fatigued, collapsed into his carriage, breathing quickly. As Lucius made to set the bottle back, I meekly requested, "Um, I need that too." With a smirk, he handed the bottle to me and I put the bottles in my shopping bag. 

"Is that your son?" Lucius asked in a patronizing tone. "Harry, is it?"

"That's right," I answered. Harry was reaching out to touch the bottles so in order to avoid more accidents, I spun his carriage around. "Harry James Potter."

"Not Harold, after your late father?"

"Harry is his own person," I explained, since that was what my mother said before. 

"I see."

"Thank you for getting those bottles down," I repeated, hoping that would make him go away. It didn't.

"Well, I didn't want you asking your son aloud to get them down for you. You would be staying here all day if you tried that," he answered, smirking again. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I snapped back. 

"Oh, I just happened to walking past when you were talking with... who was she? Camilla Yellowbird? With that Muggle husband? Yes, it appears that the rumors are true. The Potter child is a Squib."

I felt myself tense up. "You can't tell that for certain."

"Oh? Then the rumor that he does not hum is false?" I didn't answer. "If a child does not hum or show his first signs, then I would say he's a Squib."

"It's a block, it can be fixed," I stuttered. 

Lucius shook his head. "You know very well it's not a block. You know what they say..."

"It's an old wives' tale!" I shouted.

Lucius ignored me. "When a pureblood and a Mudblood marry, how can you expect anything other than Squibs?"

I nearly went for my wand but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of me getting arrested. "Don't you _dare_ call my wife that term!"

"Mudblood." Both Lucius and I stopped for it wasn't Lucius who spoke. "Mudblood." It was little Draco. "Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood." It was sickening to hear a baby say that disgusting word. Draco was grinning all the while. 

"Even a baby knows that," Lucius commented proudly. 

I moved Harry's carriage aside so I could step up to Lucius. "Get out of my way," I demanded through gritted teeth. 

Before Lucius could respond, Draco screamed. We both turned to see what was wrong and saw that Harry had his mouth firmly on Draco's hand, chomping on it. 

"Harry! Stop that!" I cried although on the inside I was cheering. I managed to remove Harry's mouth from Draco's hand and in the confusion of Draco's wails, I rushed to the counter, bought the powders, and darted out of the store. 

I practically ran through the streets and when I was a safer distance away, I stopped and bent down to look at Harry at eye-level. He grinned at me and reached out for me. I couldn't help but smile back at him. "That was a fantastic performance in there, Harry." He giggled. "I should be angry at you since that wasn't very nice but I'll let you off this time." I kissed his forehead and breathed in his hair. "Oh, you're so perfect. I love you so much." I gave him another peck on the cheek as I got up. "Lucius is wrong. Even a baby knows that purity doesn't matter."

*** ***

Luckily, Floo Powder and Communication Powder were the last things we needed from the Wizarding World so we could avoid any more run-ins with Lucius and his son, Draco. Although, I entertained visions of Harry biting Draco again as I left for Muggle London. 

As I walked, my joy over Harry's not-so-nice behavior faded in favor of doubt over his talent. As the months passed, my anxiety over Harry's possible Squibness worsened. I looked around at the Muggles around me. I couldn't live like them, I didn't even understand them, how would Harry survive? 

"Let's go to a park," I suggested to Harry. "Mummy won't be home for awhile and it's so nice out. Just for a little while." 

I walked until I came across a park. In the distance, I could see a footpath circling a large lake. Children and parents were walking or playing with their dogs in the grass. I smiled at them when they smiled at me as I led Harry to the footpath. The sun glistened off the ripples in the water and it lapped against the tiny shore. Ducks quacked as they glided over the water or flew up into the air. "Look, Harry, ducks!" I pointed to the ducks and Harry clapped his hands. "But where do the ducks go in winter? I used to think they stayed frozen under the ice, like fruit in a trifle. Isn't that silly? The ducks really go south, where it's nice and warm. Most birds do. And some people as well," I joked. I pushed him along the footpath.

"You know, Harry, I've been thinking about this whole Squib thing. There's nothing wrong with being a Squib. Muggles aren't all bad, well, maybe your Aunt Petunia but she's probably an exception. Some wizards are just as rotten. You could live like a Muggle. You understand why I care so much, I can't imagine any life other than the one I have. Your Mummy knows more about Muggles than I do. And if it comes to that, then we'll do everything to make sure you're happy and successful. We'll send you the best of the best Muggle schools. Even if you're not magical, you're still our son and you'll probably be one smart boy." I stroked his hair as he gazed at the water and the ducks. "You're so special to us. We only want the best for you. So, if Hogwarts isn't an option, then we'll find you a good Muggle school. You won't even care if you're a Squib or not. You'll make loads of friends and you'll meet some wonderful girl and you'll fall in love and get married and have some beautiful children. And we'll be right there with you, every step of the way." I sighed. "What's the difference between Wizard and Muggle anyway? We all want the same things. We all laugh and cry and love and hate and get born and die. If the Muggle life is for you, then I'll be happy for you. I'll always love you, no matter what. No one can take you away from me, I'll always be here." Harry glanced up at me and I stroked his hair again. "Speaking of the future, I wonder what kind of girls you'll like. I can barely wait to see your first girlfriend. Will she be like your Mummy? Or completely different? Will you be like me and find your true love after one go or will you be like your silly uncles who have had more girlfriends than fingers and toes? And what will be your favorite subjects? Your least favorite? I wonder who your friends will be? Who will you absolutely hate? Sure hope it's Draco. If you befriend him, I'll jump out of a window. And if I'm right, and you're not a Squib after all this fuss, I wonder if you'll play Quidditch? What position will you play?" I laughed. "I can't believe that I'm both looking forward and dreading the day you go to Hogwarts!" I ruffled his hair as I continued along the footpath. We took a detour to a large oak tree off the footpath and meandered in the grass.

As we were heading towards the path again, I saw a woman sitting on a bench, reading a thick book. She had curly brown hair that was trying to be held in some sort of hair contraption resembling a piranha. On her left side was a Muggle baby carriage and as I got closer, I could hear her reading aloud.

"'When he was gone, and in the course of an evening passed with Miss Pross, the Doctor, and Mr. Lorry, Charles Darnay made some mention of this conversation in general terms, and spoke of Sydney Carton as a problem of carelessness and recklessness. He spoke of him, in short, not bitterly or meaning to bear hard upon him, but as anybody might who saw him as he showed himself. 

'He had no idea that this could dwell in the thoughts of his fair young wife; but, when he afterwards joined her in their own rooms, he found her waiting for him with the old pretty lifting of the forehead strongly marked'."

"Excuse me," I asked, as she paused to take a breath before reading on. "May I sit down on this bench with you?"

"Of course. Please do." She held out her hand to shake as I sat down. I shook it and she greeted, "My name is Dr. Helen Granger."

"James Potter. This is my son, Harry," I replied, nodding towards Harry, who cooed. 

"This is my daughter, Hermione," she answered, gesturing her hand at her carriage. The baby inside was hidden from sight. She smiled and said, "Get it?"

"Get what?"

"Our names. Helen and Hermione. Do you understand the reference?"

I was completely boggled. "They both begin with H and E."

She sighed forlornly. "Why do I bother?" she asked no one in particular. "Surely you've heard of Helen of Troy?"

I was about say, "Oh! The witch who used a love charm on every man she met and caused a huge war because of it?" but then I realized that I was talking to a Muggle and a Muggle wouldn't know that. I decided to use the Muggle version. "Yes, the most beautiful woman during Ancient Times. She caused the Trojan War and is 'the face that sailed a thousand ships'."

"Yes. Well, Helen of Troy had a daughter named Hermione."

"Really?"

She sighed in frustration. "Yes, but no one actually knows that because no one actually sits down and studies mythology if they study at all. Philistines! I mean, how hard is to actually sit down and read once in a while. No, everyone watches soaps instead. Does your wife watch soaps?"

"No," I answered. 

"Well, that makes two of us. People today!" She sighed sadly. "I worry for my little girl sometimes. All this glory about _not_ working hard, it's very worrying, you know what I mean?" I nodded. "Of course, to be honest, I only named Hermione that because of that's the female lead 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. We only realized the relation between my name and hers after the fact. Funny how these things work out!"

"Why name her after someone in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'?" I asked.

She looked longingly at the lake in a very romantic fashion. "Oh, because that's the play that my husband took me to for our first date. I knew that he was the one. So, I named her that in honor of that wonderful night." She frowned. "Of course, no one realizes that Hermione is from a Shakespeare play. That's even if they get it _right_ the first time. Her-my-oh-nee, how difficult is that?" Should've named her Juliet, I thought but didn't voice aloud. She might have killed me. "I'm sorry, I'm ranting at you. I had a hard day, not that that's any excuse. Whenever I'm in a bad mood, I always take Hermione in the stroller, go to the park, and read her a good book. That always cheers me up."

"What were you reading just now?"

"_A Tale of Two Cities_. I'm not going to dumb her down just because she's a baby. It is important to expose children early to advanced literature and to speak to them like they are adults or they'll never learn or push themselves." She set the book down beside on the left side, near the baby, and asked, "Can I take a closer look at your son?"

"Sure," I answered. I moved over so she could crouch in front of Harry. 

"Has his teeth grown in?"

"A few."

"That's good." I'm sure she kept talking but I wasn't listening. I felt a crackle of magical energy coming from my left side. I turned my head to see where it came from, hoping it wasn't Lucius coming to enact his revenge. He was nowhere in sight but I saw the baby inside the carriage now. Her scalp was dotted with tiny brown curls that looked like mattress springs. Her eyes were focused on the book. Slowly, as if by a string, the book floated up and moved towards the carriage. Just as slowly, it floated down to a mesh pocket on the side and the pocket opened wide. The book dropped in and mesh pocket snapped shut. I had never seen a Muggle-born witch or wizard outside of Hogwarts. I knew they all started out as babies at some point but it was still amazing to see. 

"Hello? Mr. Potter?" 

I whirled my head back towards the mother, who was looking at me strangely. "What?"

"I asked if you have a dentist in mind for your son."

"Um... I don't know."

She reached into her pocket and took out a card. "My husband and I ran a family dentistry center near here. Here's our card. Call us anytime. We do adults too."

"Uh, sure," I mumbled as I took the card. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and scream, "Don't you see what your daughter just did? Your daughter can do magic, don't you understand?" but I knew that I would just frighten her. 

"Where's my book?" she asked as she came back over. She shook her head. "There it is, in the pocket! I must have put it there before. I must be losing my mind. That seems to be happening a lot lately." She sighed. "I must be working too hard." She undid the lock on the wheels and said sweetly, "Well, it was charming to meet you. I hope you come to our office someday."

"I have a feeling we'll be meeting again soon, Dr. Granger. It was nice meeting you."

"Good bye, Mr. Potter," she said and pushed her daughter away. As she walked out of earshot, I smiled at Harry who was looking at me bemusedly. 

"Well, she's definitely going to Hogwarts with you, that's for sure. Maybe you'll date her too." Harry blew a raspberry. I laughed. "Yeah, I don't think I could handle Dr. Helen Granger as a mother-in-law!"

*** ***

"And Potter darts left! He darts right! He narrowly misses a Bludger, good reflexes, Potter! But what's that near the ground? A glitter of gold? It's the Snitch! Go for it, Potter! Watch him fly, ladies and gentlemen! Oh, but the Slytherin Seeker is gaining on Potter's tail! Go, Potter, go! The two Seekers are neck in neck! But, what's this, Potter has suddenly gained speed! Yes, he's been holding out this whole time! The Slytherin Seeker is miles behind! Potter's got the Snitch! Another victory for Gryffindor!" I spun Harry's carriage in a circle as he clapped and laughed. "The crowd's going wild! Even Slytherins are cheering!" I made crowd noises. "Women are throwing themselves on Potter's broom! No pun intended, of course! Get back on the ground, ladies, there's only one of him to go around!" Harry laughed some more. I had been running with his carriage since the park, much to Harry's delight. With his love for speed, he just screams Seeker. As I approached the city again, I slowed down although we both couldn't stop giggling. "We have to act like Muggles now," I warned him. I leaned down to whisper to him, "But England hasn't hosted the Quidditch World Cup in sixteen years. They'll probably host when you're a teenager and we'll go together. Just you and me, no one else. We'll go, I promise." I straightened up again and walked through the street. 

I stopped across the street from a flower stall to check the list. Some items could only be found in Muggle London. I held Harry's carriage with one hand and held the list in the other. Suddenly, I felt a crackle of energy running up my arm, sending shivers down my spine. I looked down at Harry and immediately I knew it was his energy I was feeling. I had heard that your own child's energy always feels the best because it is closely linked to your own but I had no idea how intoxicating it feels. It felt so good, all warm and tingly. I almost started to burst out laughing because it sort of went to my head, making me a little light-headed. 

Although I should have taken Harry away from the area in order to avoid a horrible accident, my excitement over feeling _something_ from him was too much. "Come on, Harry," I whispered, "you know you want to. You know you can." 

He was staring in the direction of the flower stall. A blonde woman with a Muggle baby carriage was talking with the girl at the stall. The woman seemed familiar but I couldn't place where I had seen her. There was a burst of magical energy. The lock on the wheels of the baby carriage lifted up and it started rolling down the hill. There was another burst and the stroller sped down the hill like a racing broom.

I rushed into action. I ran down the hill after the Muggle carriage, pushing Harry in front of me, Harry squealing all the while. I soon realized that there was no way I would catch up on foot. So, I quickly took out my wand and screamed, "Accio!" The baby carriage lurched to a halt and slowly started rolling back towards me. Soon enough, the handlebars of the Muggle stroller lifted my right hand. 

The baby inside was crying loudly and Harry was giggling and clapping like a maniac. Although a part of me felt sorry for the little Muggle, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with joy. He wasn't a Squib! All this worry was for nothing! Somehow, Harry was unblocked himself, that's why the magical energy had been so intense because it had been bottled up with nowhere to go. I looked in the Muggle carriage. I gasped when I saw who it was.

It was Dudley. Which means that the mother was...

"Petunia!" I cried. And it was. She was running down the hill, livid with anger and fear.

"My baby! My Dudders! Take your hands off him!" Petunia screamed as she wretched the carriage out of my hand. 

Well, I thought, at least she knows what magic is so this won't be too hard. "Petunia, he's alright. I managed to get him to stop rolling."

She looked at me like I was a mass murderer. "You!"

"Petunia, I can explain, you see..."

"You nearly killed my precious little boy!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face. 

"Now, wait, Petunia. I can explain. See, Harry here just..." I felt a crackle of energy from Harry. 

"I don't care! My boy probably traumatized because of you freaks!"

"Now, wait a minute! Harry didn't mean any harm. See, I was racing the carriage and he likes that so he thought that Dudley would enjoy it too."

"He meant to kill my son!"

"I seriously doubt Harry has murderous intentions towards anyone."

"Your son rolled my son down a hill!"

"I know and I'm sorry. But, on the upside, Harry just had his first signs!" The handlebars seemed to shift in my grip. 

"His first what?"

"His first signs of magic! I know you don't like magic and all but this is a wonderful event!"

"Wonderful? He nearly murdered my son! I'm supposed to be happy?!"

I was starting to get angry at her. She was ruining the moment. "Petunia! He didn't mean it! He's a baby!"

"Great! Just what I need, another freak in the family! Why are you so happy about your son doing your hocus pocus silliness?"

"Silliness? Listen, Petunia, if I hadn't done some 'hocus pocus' as you call it, Dudley would still be rolling down that hill, heading into traffic!"

"If your son wasn't such a freak, he wouldn't've been rolling in the first place!"

There was an energy burst and Harry and Dudley flew out of hands, speeding down the hill. We both landed on our stomachs.

"DUDLEY!" Petunia screamed, sprinting after him.

"HARRY!" I yelled, running as well. Apparently, Harry had become bored with our argument and wanted to have some more racing time as well to take his cousin for a spin too. 

We both screamed our respective son's names as we ran full steam down the street. Harry and Dudley soon met up with a busy, four-lane street. The cars going along the road that they were about to cross had the green light. 

"OH MY GOD!" Petunia shrieked. 

"STOP! HARRY! STOP!" I shouted. But Harry didn't stop. I took out my wand but then realized to my horror that I really could only save one. If I saved my son, I would be arrested and sent to Azkaban for a minimum of a year to a maximum of three years for failing to protect a defenseless Muggle minor against magical influence. If I saved Dudley, Harry would die.

The babies neared the curb. Petunia screamed in anguish. 

To our surprise, they did not run into the road and get squished by cars. Instead, Harry's and Dudley's carriages flew over the cars to the other side of the road and continued on their way. Dozens of bewildered Muggles leaned out of the windows, asking if they just saw what they thought they saw. 

Petunia and I ran into the road, holding our hands out to tell the cars to stop as we sprinted across it. They cursed at us but neither of us cared. We ran after the baby buggies and at every street, they flew over the cars to the Muggles' surprise and astonishment. Every time, we risked death to cross the speeding cars. I don't know how long we ran after them but after forever, the two carriages slowed down and hit a man walking with a group of men in business suits. 

The man hit was Vernon Dursley. He hadn't changed a bit. Still red, still no neck, still beefy. The other men looked Japanese and stared bemusedly at Vernon, the babies, and us, wheezing and stumbling up to them. Vernon looked into Dudley's carriage. "Dudley?" Dudley, who had been screaming until this point, gurgled in response. He looked over into Harry's carriage. "Who is this?" Harry, who had been laughing until this point, cried in response. 

"That," I panted, "is my son."

Vernon looked furious. I had probably interrupted something very important. "That is my brother-in-law. He is married to my wife's sister."

"James Potter," I said in a form of greeting. They bowed. 

"And that is my wife, Petunia." They bowed at her but she wasn't paying attention. She was glaring at me. I stumbled over to Harry's carriage and pulled him away from Vernon. Petunia stalked up to me and looked me straight in the face. 

"If I ever, _ever_ see you or your son again, I _will_ call the authorities!" Petunia shrieked. 

"Sure, whatever," I moaned. I was so tired. I spun Harry around and walked towards the diner across the street. World-weary, I sat on the plastic chair in the outside patio. Harry was still crying. I took him out of his carriage, placed him over my shoulder, and rocked back and forth until he quieted down. It wasn't until he was quietly breathing on my shoulder that I noticed another change: he hummed. It was such a nice hum, Harry's hum. It must have been awful, having all that energy bottled up. I wonder if it had caused him pain. It was so wonderful to feel that hum. 

"Mr. Potter?"

I opened one eye. A woman in a robe smiled nervously at me. "Yes?"

"Mr. Potter, I'm placing you under arrest."

"What?" I asked weakly. 

"For violation of the Secrecy Code. Your child's magical activity was seen by over thirty Muggles and he even got caught on film."

"Huh?"

"A newscaster was doing a report on the traffic for the local news and your child and the Muggle child with him flew past the screen. That shot will probably be on the ten o'clock news. And you are responsible for whatever your child so you have to pay the punishment."

"Which is?"

"A hundred Galleon fine and one day in the local prison."

I sighed wearily. "I hate my life."

I paid the fine and spent that night and the following day in jail. Lily was furious but couldn't help being extremely pleased with Harry's first sign and his newly discovered hum. 

As I lay on my cot that night, I realized that life was pretty good. 

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: I succumbed to the urge. I promised myself I wouldn't but I did. I bought _Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix_. But I have sworn that I will not read it until I have finished my fic. I planned this chapter a long time ago and it was really fun to write. Dr. Granger was a blast. Yes, she really is reading from _A Tale of Two Cities_ by Charles Dickens. It's at the end of Chapter 20, which is called "A Plea". I had to read it in tenth grade. I still think Carton is the coolest character in the novel, I liked him from the start. It's very boring until the third "book" in the novel, which is really cool. I wanted Dr. Granger to read Hermione something highly intellectual and yet utterly boring at the same time. The mythical Hermione is mentioned in Edith Hamilton's _Mythology_ as well, I think Odysseus' son, Teneleus, meets her at some point during his quest for his father. So, when I think of Hermione, I think of Helen's daughter, not the heroine in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" which is where J. K. Rowling got it from. Cían is my cousin's name! It's pronounced "KEY-in" which, unfortunately, rhymes with Finnigan. The real-life Cían is a bit of a goth, I've only met him once. When I was writing Lucius here, I kept thinking of the guy from the movie and it was ticking me off! "Long hair, bad!" I think he does a wonderful portrayal but I don't like the long hair. I always imagined him looking exactly like Draco, down to his slicked back short hair. He looks goofy with the long hair, especially when he has it tied back with that ribbon thing. He's like a reject from "The Patriot" or something. Actually, now that I remember, he _is_. I think he played the British general. Does he ever play anyone nice? Anyway, I hope I finish this soon or my mom is going to wonder why I'm not reading the fifth book. I can't say, "Because I'm not done with my fanfic!", can I? Please review! Click the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	27. Locked Away

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-seven: Locked Away

After Harry had unblocked his magic, we practically shoved him in everyone's faces to show that he now hummed. The only things we counted now were how many months until his first birthday.

When not at work, we concentrated on the task we got suckered into by Dumbledore. Every morning, we played Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who would be the unfortunate soul that had to go to the library and find materials to pick clues from. I have no idea how many more people had been assigned the same task; Dumbledore referred to us as "The Crowd", whatever that is supposed to mean. 

One night in early July, as we labored over arcane texts with quills and parchment scattered all over the place. It was much like our days at Hogwarts, except there was no footsie or eye games. 

"The question is," Lily wondered aloud, "should we consider Lord Voldemort a man or something else?"

"Well, remember what Dumbledore said. He has undergone many transformations. He's barely human," I replied.

"But should we consider him human or not? And if we don't consider him human, then what do we consider him?"

"I think we should look at him both ways, to be safe," I answered. 

She sighed. "In your personal opinion," Lily asked, "what do _you_ think he is?"

"A man with too much power. You?"

"A demon."

I chuckled. "Well, then our research will be balanced, with you thinking he's not human and me thinking he is. Why do you ask anyway?"

"Some spells work only on humans, other spells on dark creatures. To find what is going to kill him, we need to find out what he is."

"They say he's looking for immortality."

"Then we must make sure he doesn't get it." Lily tapped the book with her index finger. "Who is Lord Voldemort?"

"I wonder about who he _was_."

"Who he was?"

"He had to start somewhere. You can't just transform into something from nothing. He must have a person before this whole Lord Voldemort business. I seriously doubt that some mother out there said, 'Oh, look at our baby boy. Let's name him... um... Voldemort!'"

Lily laughed. Then she said more seriously, "Perhaps Dumbledore knows. I'll owl him about it." She grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote the question down and rose to attach it to our owl, Iris. 

Harry was sitting in his high chair nearby, playing with his box of magical toy balls. Lily kissed him on head. "Who's my good boy? Mummy loves you." She moved to the owl as Harry stared at her with a focused expression, as if he was trying to decipher something on her clothing. "Send this to Dumbledore," Lily told Iris. Iris hooted and flew out the window. "Well," Lily stated to Harry with a smile, "Mummy had her walking break. Back to work!" 

"Mama," Harry replied, reaching out for her. I dropped the book I was lifting on the mounting pile of "nothing we didn't know" books. Lily gasped. 

"What did you say, Harry?" I asked. 

"Mama," Harry repeated. 

"Harry talked!" Lily cried. "He called me 'Mama'! He was staring right at me, did you see that? He called me 'Mama'! Oh, my brilliant little man!" Lily rushed over and picked him up out of the highchair, kissing him all his face. "Who am I, Harry? Say it again!" Lily ordered, lifting him up into the air.

"Mama."

"Yes! Now, say 'daddy'! Say 'dada'! Da-da!"

"Mama!"

Lily turned her eyes towards me. "Sorry, James. Harry doesn't seem to want to say that yet."

"That's alright," I answered, grinning as I picked the book off my lap and put it on the pile. "We have to get back to work, though, Mummy."

"Daddy needs me," Lily said to Harry as she put him back in the highchair. 

A few moments later, Harry stared hard at me as well. I glanced up now and then and every time, his eyes were on me. Finally, he stretched out his arms and said, "Dada!"

"He did it!" Lily cried. "He called you 'Dada', that's so sweet!"

"Dada!" Harry repeated. 

"That's amazing. We'll have to watch for the glares from now on," I replied.

"Absolutely," Lily agreed.

"Dada!" Harry cried with more force. 

"He's so cute!" Lily commented.

Harry screamed and beat his fists against tray, knocking the box of magical balls to the floor. "DADA!" 

"Whoa!" I rose quickly and rushed to the highchair, pulling the flailing boy out. I placed him over my shoulder, walking back and forth in the room. Harry calmed down and clutched my shirt, muttering, "Dada. Dada. Dada."

On his birthday, we had a small gathering to celebrate consisting of just Harry, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I. It was relatively unpleasant. The relations between Sirius and Remus were heavily strained. It was most obvious in that Sirius and Peter had a delightful conversation and Remus and Peter had a delightful conversation but Sirius and Remus barely said anything to each other. It was worse than outright fighting because fighting means there is some sort of feeling behind the shouting. Silence means there is nothing. It was worst than when the incident with Snape happened; at least I knew the cause of the rift. But it wouldn't be until later that I would find out what was going on. At this point, I was completely in the dark. 

Of course, Lily, Peter, and I pretended that nothing was wrong and this was just like any other birthday party we had been to. We all chatted about Harry's development and what was going on in our lives. Unlike the Christmas party, Remus said practically nothing about his life in Norway. A few months before, Remus had excitedly told us that he had finally gone on a date with Hilda but when we asked about her or their relationship, he would quickly change the subject. 

In the middle of cake, as we chatted and pretended that Sirius and Remus weren't talking, Harry got that intense look again, this time at Peter. 

"Oh, he's going to do it," Lily warned joyfully. 

"It's creepy," Peter mumbled. "Having him stare at me like that."

"Petah," Harry said softly. He didn't reach out for him however. We clapped for Harry's achievement. Harry turned to Remus and stared. A minute passed in silence. "Wemus." We clapped again.

"You next, Sirius," I said cheerfully. Harry, however, didn't seem interested in Sirius. We all stared at Harry to see when he was going to do it but Harry just absent-mindedly glanced around the room. A minute passed. Then two. Finally, Lily said, "Harry." 

Harry turned to the sound of her voice. "Mama."

"Say 'Sirius'. Si-ri-us, Harry," she ordered, pointing at Sirius. 

"Mama."

Sirius tapped his fork on his plate slowly, as if keeping time. "It's alright," he said in a tone that meant it wasn't alright, "he's not going to say my name." He glared at his half-eaten cake. He mumbled under his breath. I couldn't hear him but apparently Peter could because he responded, "Don't be silly. Sirius is just too hard to say, all those 's' sounds. 'Peter' and 'Remus' have 'p', 't', and 'm' sounds and 'Sirius' has none of those. I'm sure it's nothing personal." Peter turned to Harry and said, "Harry, say 'Padfoot'. Pad-foot." Harry wasn't interested in Peter or Padfoot, he was reaching out for the pieces of cake left. I pulled them out of the way. 

In August, Sirius came to visit briefly. He found Harry by himself in the sitting room while I was in the kitchen. From the kitchen, I heard Sirius bark and Harry laugh. I went to stand in the doorway to watch the little spectacle. Harry pulled on Padfoot's black fur, occasionally getting zapped by his unblocked magical energy. Eventually, Sirius changed back into himself and kneeled down in front of Harry. 

"What's my name?" he asked. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Ever since Harry had said everyone but his name, that had been the first thing out of his mouth every time he saw Harry. "Come on, it's not hard. Sirius."

Harry stared at him. I straightened up. Maybe now was the moment. A long moment passed. Finally, he said, "Snuffles."

"WHAT?!" Sirius demanded as I fell over laughing, clutching my stomach. "Snuffles?!"

"Snuffles!" Harry repeated, laughing as well as he beat his palms against the carpet. "Snuffles! Snuffles! Snuffles!"

"Great job, Harry!" I gasped between my bursts of laughter.

"No! Bad Harry! Sirius, not Snuffles!" Sirius corrected but it was too late. Harry would only say Snuffles. 

"Snuffles... is... the... black... dog... in... _Ron_... _Seannings_!" I gasped, giggling. "You shouldn't have changed into Padfoot just then. We've been reading it to him."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Did Virginia have to pick the most embarrassing name?"

"Well, I just hope that Peter doesn't change into Wormtail anytime soon or he'll be called 'Scabbers'."

*** ***

On September 13th, Lily went to visit her parents with Harry so I decided to visit my mother. I Apparated into the receiving hall and walked down to the sitting room but it was empty. "Elf!"

A male elf popped to my side. "What is Master wanting?"

"Where is my mother?"

"In the reading room. Shall Heffy announce Master to Mistress?"

"No, thank you. That is all." Heffy disappeared.

I walked upstairs to reading room, which is connected to the grand library. I always enjoyed sitting the reading room, reading a novel in privacy. The room is painted in a very pale green with gold facades along the ceiling. The carpet is a dark hunter green, which I made-believe was grass in some dark jungle. There are many comfortable chairs and couches scattered in the room along with some tiny tables. 

My mother was sitting with her back to me in the chair closest to the fireplace. The fire within was crackling benignly. I could only see my mother's arms dangling over the arms.

"Hello, Mother. Just me today," I explained, "Lily is taking Harry to see her parents." I walked closer to her. "Harry is still calling Sirius 'Snuffles', it's hilarious. But Sirius has given up trying to correct him. Oh, guess what he said yesterday. He said 'yes'! Well, he really said, 'yah' but he meant 'yes'. He says new things everyday, we're always wondering what he's going to say next. And the other day, he pulled himself up to a standing position by gripping the couch. It was really exciting but when he tried to walk, he fell flat on his face. Then he cried. But he'll get it soon. Do you think so?" I paused to allow my mother to answer. She didn't respond. "Let's have some tea, then. Elf!"

A female elf appeared. "Yes? What is Master wanting?"

"May we have some tea and biscuits... actually, never mind. Mother, why don't we have some hot chocolate instead, I'm in the mood for that. Bring us some hot chocolate and some sweets, please."

"Right away." She disappeared. 

"Anyway, around September 1st, I couldn't help but think about Hogwarts. Ten more years, isn't that amazing? I'll be thirty-six years old, you'll be sixty-six years old. I think Harry will be amazing, don't you think so? He'll be with Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan and that Muggle dentist's daughter and Neville Longbottom. I think Neville and him are going to be best friends, they play with each other all the time. Of course, he'll be with Draco Malfoy too but he'll beat his scores every time, I guarantee it. Don't you think so, Mother?" She didn't answer. "Mother? You're being rather quiet. Is something wrong?" My mother didn't reply. I walked over to her. "Can you hear me, Mother?" She didn't respond. "Are you asleep?" 

I went around the chair to face her. A book was lying open on her lap and her head was against the back of the chair. Her eyes were rolled back into her head. "Mother?" I grabbed her hand. It was cold. I felt her neck. There was no pulse. She was dead. I put the hand down on her lap along with its mate. I removed the book, closed it and set it on the side table. Gently, I closed her eyes. I stared at her expressionless face. As far as I could tell, it hadn't been painful. Perhaps it had just been like _that_. Just sat down and that was it. I was glad she didn't suffer. 

"Here is hot chocolate and sweets that Master wanted. Where should Gerby put the hot chocolate and sweets?" The elf was back, holding a tray with two cups of hot chocolate, a pot with some more, and a plate of petit fours. 

"Gerby, we no longer need the hot chocolate but you may sit it down on that table by the window." Gerby rushed to put it nimbly down on the table. "Gerby?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Please bring me some parchment, a quill, some ink, the post owl, Zeus, and the family address book."

"Right away, Master." He was gone again.

I righted my mother so she sat in the center of the chair. I brushed her hair with my fingers so she looked a little more tidy. Satisfied that my mother looked regal, I kissed her on the forehead. "You're with Father now," I whispered in her ear.

*** ***

The funeral for my mother was very beautiful. Although I was sad to see her go, I felt a sense of closure. Now, my father wouldn't be alone. It was better this way. I wrote to everyone I could think of and mostly everyone could come to funeral except Remus. 

As we, Lily, Sirius, Peter, and I, rode to the cemetery in the black carriages in silence, I thought over my mother's life. I had grown to know her better in the past two years than I had in all my life with her. I was a little disappointed I wouldn't get to learn more about her and my father. 

"Strange how she died like that," Peter said suddenly. "She's... she was only fifty-six years old."

"It was a natural death, don't worry," I replied, staring out the window. "It was a stroke, they said. Simple, run-of-the-mill stroke. It was probably painless."

"Some people just go young," Lily added. 

"I'd be careful, James. It's in your genes," Sirius warned. 

"I wonder how long Mr. Potter would have lived if he hadn't... you know," Peter trailed off. 

"There's no use in thinking about it. They're together now," I answered.

"Shame Remus couldn't come," Lily remarked sadly. 

"My parents always liked you three," I said, "My mother liked Peter best. She said you were a little gentleman."

"Thank you," Peter replied.

"Actually, do you want to hear a story?"

"Sure," they all answered. 

"My parents were in the bunkers during the war against Grindelwald and Hitler."

"I never knew that," Peter said in astonishment. "Why weren't they raving psychopaths?"

"Peter! That's not very nice to say!" Lily scolded. 

"No, seriously, I had a neighbour that was in the bunkers and she was _crazy_. Used to jump at loud noises and keep all her lights on, even during the daytime."

"It could've been just her," Sirius remarked. 

"Do you want to hear this or not?" I whined. They apologized. "Anyway, my parents were in the bunkers. My father had a crush on my mother but..." I paused. I didn't feel comfortable telling them about my mother's nightly terrors. It had seemed so private. "But... my father finally worked up the courage to write her a love note. That was really dangerous because the guards didn't like that sort of thing going on. Anyway, during that huge revolt in the bunkers, you know the one in 1941, my father was involved and he was sent to solitary confinement for two weeks."

"That's horrible!" Lily exclaimed. 

"No, it gets better. See, my mother thought my father was really brave so she wanted to send notes to him in his cell but she didn't know how. But she found a way. A boy was assigned to deliver his meals to him. Guess who he was?" They shrugged. "Sirius' father."

"You're joking!" Peter and Lily said at the same time. 

"It's true, my mother told me so. She convinced him to let her put her notes on the tray."

"No wonder my family never liked my dad," Sirius replied. "Probably couldn't stand the notion of someone in the family breaking rules like that."

"I think that's why my parents always liked you. You probably reminded them of your father. I guess without your father, I probably wouldn't even exist. Weird, huh?"

"Small world," Lily commented. 

"We're here," I announced as the carriages stopped outside the cemetery. We floated my mother's coffin over to the gravesite. It felt very strange and unreal. When we reached it, the vicar began the last rites as we stood in silence. 

Except for that strange noise. At first, I ignored it but the noise grew louder and louder. It sounded like someone running over the grass. People began turning their heads around and the vicar slowly stopped reading. 

Running as if he was being chased by demons from Hell, his black robes billowing out behind him, Remus dashed across the cemetery towards, narrowly avoided a few angel statues. Within a minute, he reached the edge of the circle of mourners. Panting, he collapsed onto his knees.

"Remus!" I stammered. "You came!"

"Yeah, hi," he breathed. 

"Did you run the whole way here?"

"I went... to... the church..." he shook his head weakly. "No one... there... ran from... there... to... here."

"Are you alright, my son?" the vicar asked with raised eyebrows. 

Remus nodded. "Yeah." He waved his hands at him. "Please, continue. So sorry for interrupting."

With a grunt, Sirius pulled Remus to his feet. Remus swayed but remained on his feet, panting. The ceremony continued without further incident. 

*** ***

After the funeral, Lily and I went through the process dismissing the House Elves and going through my parents' possessions. I shifted our million books, deciding which ones to keep and which to donate to the local library. I gathered all the silverware, furniture and pieces of art and selected which ones to keep, donate, sell, or toss. 

Finally, we were left with the personal, sentimental effects of my parents. Without regard to what we were shifting through, we gathered every piece of parchment, every photo, every box, every little thing. When the whole manor had been gutted, we put everything in the center of the huge rarely-used dance hall and slowly began to work through it. 

There were many things that I didn't know my parents kept. Lily found a collection of letters that I had written while I was at Hogwarts from my first day to my last year. Some were rather funny and I wrote about things I had since forgotten. "Dear Mother and Father, Ignore whatever it is that Lucius wrote home about. I didn't do it. I'm innocent. It was the other Slytherins, I promise." "Dear Mother and Father, Sirius is making me try out for the Quidditch team. I don't want to. Can you give a list of reasons why I shouldn't play that I can tell him?" "Dear Mother and Father, Forget what I said about playing Quidditch, being a Chaser is really fun. Thank you for the broom, it flies very nice." "Dear Mother and Father, Sirius' aunt, Clarissa, came to the match today. Dumbledore let her come. He's a great man. She had never seen a Quidditch match before. We won, by the way. Sirius got in a big fight with the Slytherin captain because he made fun of Clarissa. It got out of hand. I have a black eye now and my glasses broke. Sorry."

I also found a mountain of photographs. Most of them were in black and white. A dozen or so were of my grandparents, great-grandparents, and others further back. Most were of my parents. The setting was usually Hogwarts, I could occasionally see a boarded up window in the background. Very few were of my mother and father together, which makes sense because my parents didn't fall in love until their sixth year at Hogwarts. The ones with them together had them smiling and holding hands. Occasionally, my young father (he had hair!) would get daring and peck my young mother on the cheek, much to her wide-mouthed surprise. Many had my parents with their respective friends. It was hard to imagine that these young, bright-faced, laughing boys and girls were once my parents and their friends. 

"We really should put these in a scrapbook," Lily commented as I was looking at a picture of my mother with my grandmother, apparently having a picnic. I set it down and nearly moved on when I saw six photos that stopped me cold. 

Three of the pictures had only girls and the other three had only boys. The background looked almost the same in all of them: a blank white wall and three cots. On the cots, the girls and boys sat, one to a cot. The subjects sat perfectly still, their hands clasped in their laps. Their faces were grim and thin-lipped. Behind the girls on the wall were huge, black military block printing: 12 E-F. Behind the boys on the wall were also huge, black military block printing: 12 E-M. I read the backs. The girls were, from left to right, Vevina Glenda, Amaranta Owena, and Abigail Skyla. The boys were, from left to right, Liam Arlen, Elvin Gareth, and Harold Potter. I still wonder how my mother and father got these photos, my guess is that they sent them to my grandparents to show that their children were alright (yeah, right). 

"Lily?" I asked, pointing to my mother. "Do you think this girl is pretty?"

"Yes, her hair is so long and sleek. Why? Who is she?"

"My mother."

"Why do you ask? Don't you think she's pretty?"

"I do. A guard in the bunkers used to tell her she was ugly. I don't know what he was thinking." I let it go at that. 

A few moments later, Lily gasped. "Look!" She held up a pack of pieces of parchment tied up with string.

"What are they?"

"Letters from your dad to your mum!"

"Give me those!" I demanded and took them out of her hands. 

"Here's another stack! These are from your mum to your dad! These must be the replies!"

I read through them quickly, planning to reading them more carefully later. "Dear Abigail, You may not know me but my name is Harold Potter. I sit next to you in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I hear the guards talking about you and I get so mad because they don't know an angel when they see one." "Dear Abigail, You seemed pleased at my last letter so I'm writing another. Do you know twirl your hair when you're nervous? I notice it during tests or when Professor Saxon keeps babbling on and on about who knows what. I love Ancient Runes and not just because you're in it. I love reading ancient texts and not even realize it's in another language, I'm just reading it. Don't you love that feeling?" "Dear Abigail, You really must stop smiling at me during mealtimes. I forget to eat when you do that and then I run out of time. I wish I could sneak food into my room and eat there so I could watch you smile all mealtime long. I notice that you forget to eat too. Abigail, you must eat. I will not let you wither away." "Dear Harold, I think it's unfair that you are locked up in there. I thought you were very brave. Orson has black eye now. Did you do that? I hope you did. I hope you're not hungry. If you are, tell Roger (that's the boy who gives you food and my messages) and I'll find a way to sneak some more food to you. Don't try to stop me." "Dear Harold, I wanted to tell you when we were talking but there wasn't time. I love your voice, it's so nice. You should become a singer. I've been reading through your old letters, trying to make your voice to the words. They sound much better now." "Dear Harold, I had a dream last night. We were at Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore decided to have class on the Quidditch pitch. We were trying to transfigure brooms into people but everyone but mine turned into dogs that talked. Mine turned into you. And then we were in my manor in my bedroom and you said, 'Let's have a pillow fight' and I said, 'Well, okay'. So we had a pillow fight for awhile. Then Headmaster Dippet came in and said it was time to ballroom dancing class. Then he turned into my personal House Elf, but it made perfect sense in the dream, and you said, 'Oh, he's really mad now! Headmasters turn into House Elves when they're mad!' And then the House Elf started breathing fire and then I woke up." Hundreds of letters were gathered up in the string. 

Finally, we found my parents' old Reel Box. It was ancient. It looked like an old-fashioned Muggle film projector but with only one reel. Songs were on reels and you have to place the reel in the little holder and the tape was sucked into the little slit where it was wound onto a reel inside the huge box. After you were done, you had to rewind the whole thing to get it out. The device was massive, our Muzak is only an eighth of its size. We also found their reels. I decided to keep those since it would be interesting to hear what my parents listened to. 

Once we had sorted through what to keep, what to give to others, and what to toss, we gathered everything up to take home.

That night, with Harry at my feet, I read through my parents' love letters and listened to their old reels. When I heard one particular song, I felt a feeling a déjà vu but I couldn't remember at the time where I had heard it.

"Oh, I'm going lock you away/Don't care about what anyone will say/Keep you under lock and key/Keep you here with me/Darling, going to seal you up tight/Gonna swallow that dang key tonight/Oh, without you there is no day/So, baby, I'm going to keep you locked away!"

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: I think we have about two to three chapters left to go. Not more than four. Well, that's my explanation on why Sirius asked the Trio to call him "Snuffles" of all things. It really bothers me! The song is not real. Thanks to my brother who is doing a personal project about the number one songs from when they first started caring until now. I was held captive for an hour when I asked, "Say, where the files on the forties?" so I could write a convincing lyric for this fic. Um... nothing interesting to report except I'm leaving for California on Thursday. I want to be finished by then at the very latest! It's not for anything fun, just college visits. October's next and you all know what that means! Dun da da! Please review. It will make me happy. Flame me, I don't care. Press the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	28. The Perfect Bluff

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-eight: The Perfect Bluff

It was now October. Our research, although interesting, had gone nowhere except in circles. Harry was still working on walking but he could stand on his own. He just had to stay put once he stood up. 

We were rather surprised when Dumbledore sent us an owl saying that we had to come to Hogwarts. He wouldn't say why except that it was urgent and to tell no one that we were going. We were concerned. What was wrong?

So, the day after we received the owl, October 21st, after leaving Harry with Sirius, we Apparated to Hogsmeade and went up to our alma mater. It was very windy and cold, as it always is in October in Scotland. It was during lunch that we came in through the massive front doors. We heard the sound of children eating and chatting with friends from the Great Hall. We couldn't help but smile. 

"Harry in ten years," I said. 

"Us nearly ten years ago," Lily replied. 

"Don't make me feel old."

"Don't remind me that Harry will grow up."

We suddenly heard the tapping of footsteps. "Mr. Potter! Mrs. Potter!" We turned around and saw Bill Weasley with two other boys. 

"Hi, Bill," Lily greeted.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Visiting Dumbledore. We want to thank him for his kind words when we were worried about Harry," Lily lied. Smooth, I thought. "Are your friends?"

"This is Teddy Broker." Bill tilted his head back to the boy on his right. "And this is Michael Long." Bill tilted his head back to the boy on his left. "We're all in Gryffindor."

"The best house," I replied.

"Want to see Ginny?" Bill asked with wide eyes. Ginny (or Virginia, after the late Virginia Lenore, but no one called her that) Weasley had been born on September 17th. I had been too preoccupied with my mother's passing to really give it much thought.

"Oh no!" Teddy said in not-so-fake horror as Michael rolled his eyes. "Not again!"

"Run away while you still can!" Michael added. "I mean, doesn't your family ever stop? How many of you are there?"

"Seven, not counting my parents, which brings it to nine. And shut up already! Ginny's cute, and the Potters care about these sort of things!" Bill declared, reaching into his pockets for a small photo. We generously looked at Ginny's photo, who was very cute in a pink sleeper, and then managed to convince Bill that we had to go, which was good because the three boys had to be heading to Potions.

"With Slytherins!" Bill protested. "Why Slytherins?"

"It makes you grow, now go to class," Lily ordered.

"But Professor Bowzer is so prejudiced! And he's like ten billion and one years old or something. He's going to keel over and die any day now!"

"And he'll land on _me_ because he loves tormenting me," Teddy added.

"Or he'll do what Professor Binns did and just become a ghost and _never_ leave!" Michael suggested. The boys shivered with disgust. 

"Go to class before he has an excuse to take points off Gryffindor house!" I commanded. The boys walked away after saying their good-byes as we continued to Dumbledore's office. 

"Bowzer _is_ ancient," Lily said as we walked. "He has to retire someday. Who do you think will replace him?"

"Dumbledore will place an ad, like he did when he took up as Headmaster and needed someone to teach Transfiguration. Hope they get a Gryffindor this time. They've been Slytherins since Slytherin was one."

"Actually, Slytherin was never the Potions Master, contrary to popular belief, it's been said that he was actually terrible at brewing potions. It was his daughter who became the Potions Master and that was after he left. Also, it hasn't always been Slytherins, it's been equally divided between all four houses."

"Alright!" I shouted, covering my ears. "Forget I said anything." I paused. "How did you find that out?"

"During our research. Dumbledore told me that Lord Voldemort used to be a man named Tom Riddle and he's the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin. I tried to find anything about the family that would prove a weakness."

"Is there?"

"No, of course not. I can't remember where I found out about how all four houses gave at least a few Potions Masters, it was there somewhere in the shuffle of research." We reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Peppermint Frogs." The gargoyle leapt aside and we climbed the staircase.

*** ***

The office looked the same. The previous Headmasters and Headmistresses snoozed in their frames, Fawkes was still on his perch, although he looked dreadful, it must have been near his burning day, and Dumbledore had added a few knick-knacks. Dumbledore was seated at his desk, reading something. Without looking up, he said, "Yes, come in, James, Lily. Have a seat. The others will be offering shortly." We raised our eyebrows at each other. Others? We were finally going to meet the others in the "Crowd"? We both took a seat in the chairs provided and nervously waited for someone to show up. 

Within a few minutes, we heard someone coming up the stone steps. The door opened. In those minutes of waiting, I had imagined many scenarios of who would be coming and none of them had included who actually did. 

It was Snape.

Snape had barely changed, except grow older. His black, limp hair still was greasy and he was still ugly. I still hated him.

"Snape?" I demanded.

"Potter," Snape stated. He then scowled at Lily. "And his darling wife, Lily."

"What is he doing here?" Lily asked Dumbledore.

"All in good time, my dear. Do not worry, Severus is on our side now," Dumbledore replied smoothly.

"Now?" I repeated. "That implies there was a 'then' and during that 'then', he was not on our side!"

"He has reformed."

"Oh, has he? Really?" I demanded. "What next? Is Lord Voldemort coming here too?"

"No, just me," the next guest answered. It was Olivia Longbottom but she was no longer the simple, befuddled florist wife of the brilliant Auror Frank Longbottom. Now, she had hard, focused eyes and upright posture. This was the true Olivia. "And although it is nearly impossible to believe, Severus is now on our side and he has proven to be a wonderful asset. If there was any sign that he was playing double agent, we'd kill him." She Summoned a chair for her and Snape and sat down. Snape sat down more reluctantly, he always liked to be a giant in a world of midgets. 

"Now that we are all here," Dumbledore began, "it is necessary that we all know _why_ we are here."

Olivia and Snape looked at each other. "Should I tell or you?" Olivia asked. 

"I will," Snape answered and then turned back to us. "You have a traitor in your midst."

"A what?" Lily demanded. 

"Someone close to you is on spying on you and reporting every little detail to Lord Voldemort. I have reason to believe it's one of your precious little friends, Potter," Snape hissed. 

"Who?" I asked. 

"I can't tell you. Not I won't, I simply can't. You're lucky I even know it's one of those three. I only managed to get that much recently. I don't even know his codename."

"You have codenames?" Lily wondered. 

"Yes, we do. How stupid do you think Death Eaters are? They don't want anyone knowing who's who so no one can bargain with the Ministry."

"You mean, someone like you?" I replied.

"Oh, very funny. I could have very well kept this information to myself and just let you die but no, I'm risking my soul, life, and mind to save you all. Next time, I'll leave you in the dark, how would you like that?"

"Severus, this is not the time for squabbles and grudges," Dumbledore said.

"He started it," Snape replied angrily. 

"Well, it's very hard to believe you when you have 'Death Eater' written all over you and...!"

"Both of you!" Dumbledore snapped with something resembling irritation and impatience. "You are no longer schoolchildren battling over House Points. You are both adults and this is a serious matter."

"Sorry, sir," we both mumbled. 

"Severus, continue."

"Anyway, Lord Voldemort wants you and your son dead," Snape said darkly. 

"Why?" Lily asked.

"Seers all over the world are receiving the same message," Olivia explained, "It says that a Potter will lead to the downfall of the Dark Lord."

"But how?" I stammered. "Our research has led nowhere! How am I or my son, who's only fourteen months old, going to defeat the Darkest wizard ever known?"

'The prophecy doesn't say," Snape answered. "Only that a Potter will do it." 

"But what do we do about it?" Lily moaned. 

"Kill Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore answered. 

"We knew that," I said. "But no one has any ideas on how."

"No, we don't and we still need time. Time for you to research. Perhaps you are the one to find the solution but it won't be found if you're dead." Dumbledore stood and paced around the room. "You must go into hiding. We'll put a Fidelius Charm over your hiding place so no one can find you. I shall be your Secret Keeper."

"How long will we have to hide?" Lily asked nervously.

"Until Lord Voldemort is no more." Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Whenever that will be. There is little else we can do. I will not reveal your location, I can assure you."

"No!" I shouted, startling everyone, including myself.

"No?" Dumbledore repeated.

"I don't think you should be our Secret-Keeper. You're too important, you're the only person who was ready to fight when he first appeared. The cause can't lose you over us."

"Then who do you suggest to be your Secret-Keeper, Potter? There aren't many candidates to choose from," Snape reminded in a bitter tone.

"Sirius Black," I answered, the name flying out of my mouth before I had even really thought about it. 

Snape began to laugh. "Black? Did you not hear me? One of your three closest friends is the spy! Why don't you just hand yourself in to Lord Voldemort, save us all some time?"

"I hear what you said," I barked back. "But I know Sirius better than I know myself and I trust him with my life. And Lily's and Harry's. Sirius would _never_ turn his back on me and my family. He's like a brother to me. I want Sirius to be my Secret-Keeper."

"Ah, denial, a man's best friend. Black was capable of murder at age sixteen, using his so-called close friend as an accomplice, what makes you think he isn't a Death Eater?"

"The same way I know that there is still a moon above the Earth even when I can't see it. I just know." I turned to Dumbledore. "Please, let me use Sirius as our Secret-Keeper. Look, if Sirius says no, then we'll use you. It's not that I don't trust you, I don't want to lose you, Professor Dumbledore."

"Are you certain you want Sirius Black to be your Secret-Keeper?" Dumbledore asked, sounding as though he was sending us to somewhere dangerous.

"Yes."

"Lily?"

Lily looked at me and then at Dumbledore. "I trust Sirius too. He'll keep us safe."

"Severus, prepare the potion that goes along with the Fidelius Charm. Do it quickly and give it to the Potters as soon as it is ready. James, Lily, you must gather one strand of hair from you, Harry, and three from Sirius. These will go in the potion shortly before you take it, yours in his, his in yours. When you three drink, he must cast 'Fidelius'. Once this is done, you must tell him your exact location of your hiding place. I suggest not using your own home and using somewhere isolated. Then he must drink and you will cast 'Fidelius' on him three times, one time for each of you that he must protect. As long as he does not speak of your location or does not die, you will be completely unfindable. I suggest that Sirius go into hiding as well, the Death Eaters will wish to kill him in order to break the charm. Is there any questions?"

"I'm wondering," Lily asked meekly, "I know this sound silly but I have a cat. Will it work on the cat?"

"No, it will not. I'm sorry."

Lily looked completely crestfallen. "Poor Crookshanks, I only just got him." Although Crookshanks was an annoying pest at times, I didn't exactly want to give him away. Yeah, he grew on me, shut up. I'm not proud of it. 

"That is all. Unless something comes up, this may be the last time we meet," Dumbledore stated. He turned to us and held out his hand. We shook his hand. 

"Good bye, Dumbledore... Albus," Lily muttered. 

"Thank you for everything," I said. 

"Good luck," he replied. We left the office. Once we reached bottom of the stairs, we four stared at each other. Suddenly, Olivia pulled Lily into a big hug. Lily began to cry. 

"Oh, Lily! I'm so sorry!" Olivia cried tearfully. "There's nothing more I can do!"

"It's not your fault!"

"I promise you, Lily, I swear it on my Gran's grave, if something happens before the charm is in place, or Sirius dies, or he's... he's..."

"He's not!" Lily raised her head and shook her head. "I know it."

"But, if you... aren't around anymore but Harry survives... he might be satisfied with just James, who knows? But if Sirius is dead or worse and Harry is still there, I'll raise him alongside Neville. I'll love him like you do. He'll be one of my own, I swear it! I swear it, Lily! When I agreed to be his godmother, I meant it!"

"Thank you, Olivia! I'll... rest easier knowing that he'll be with you and Frank... and Neville and him will be just like brothers! And they'll grow up together and go into Gryffindor together... and Olivia, Neville's going to be a great wizard! I can feel it!" Lily sobbed into Olivia's chest again as Olivia, with tears streaming down her face, rubbed her back. 

Snape and I stood awkwardly to the side, shuffling our feet as the women cried in each other's arms. I suddenly remembered what Whetstone told me and I muttered it aloud, "'There's a viper in your nest. Kill it before it kills you.'"

"What?" Snape asked.

"It was something Whetstone said to me, a year back. Maybe this is what he was talking about."

"You saw Oliver?"

"Yes, I did. Why?"

"How is he? How is Alyssa?"

"Shouldn't you know? You're his friend," I replied.

Snape looked down at his feet again. "We haven't spoken or even seen each other in eight years." I was stunned. They had been so close, thick as thieves. I had a good idea why though. A Muggle-born wouldn't want to hang around with a Death Eater. "So, how are they?"

"They're living as Muggles. Alyssa doesn't know about magic, apparently it caused problems at school. She's seems like a happy-go-lucky kid. Oliver..." I nearly said that he looked dreadfully ill, coughing blood and everything but I felt a stab of pity for Snape. There was no need to torture him further. "Oliver... looks good. He's a Muggle English professor at some secondary school."

"Ah. I see. I knew he would," Snape replied. He suddenly looked very lonely and sad. 

"You should go see him," I suggested.

"You'd react worse than you. No, best to let him and his daughter be."

"Snape, why did you come over to our side?"

There was a long pause. Snape seemed to be debating with himself whether to tell me or not. Finally, he answered, "We killed some people. A girl, a ragged, dirty little girl, came in. She couldn't have done anything. My partner," Snape took a shuddering breath, "wanted to use the Killing Curse but I said no because if you use it against children younger than eleven, they shrivel up and have a terrible odor and I didn't want to deal with that. So, he picked her up and smashed her head repeatedly against the wall. She just kept screaming and screaming. Finally, he dropped her and cursed her eye, causing it to explode and bleed. And then, he said that she would die soon enough and we left. That girl died for no reason at all. She was probably only slightly younger than Alyssa. It could have _been_ Alyssa. I just couldn't take it anymore, I turned myself in to Dumbledore. And he made me his spy."

"Snape, where did this take place?"

"In Dumbledore's home, why?"

"No, the attack. Where did the girl die?"

Snape gave me an odd look. "Why?"

"Just tell me."

"Quesera." I gasped. "What? Now you react?"

"Snape, the girl didn't die. A man happened to be walking home from work and heard her screams. He saved her and adopted her." His eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "Her name now is Clarissa Turner."

"She'll find me. She'll kill me when she realizes..."

"No, Snape. She was your savior. I think she'll feel somewhat redeemed when she realizes that her sacrifice led to you helping the forces of Light. And in a way, you are her savior. I know this is cruel, but if her parents hadn't died and she hadn't been injured, she would still be homeless and dirty on the streets. Now, she's getting an education and the whole world is open to her. You owe each other your lives."

"Well, I am staying far away from her, savior or not," Snape snapped. He was back to old Snape, the git. He straightened up and said, "Now, I have a potion to make and a Dark Lord to spy on. I'll see you when it is finished. I hope you are grateful, Potter."

"Just go already," I replied. Snape turned on his heels and headed to some unknown location to make the potion and to do evil spy things. At this point, Lily had dried her eyes and was looking at me for inspection. 

"Do I look okay?" Lily asked.

"Perfect. Let's go home."

*** ***

"Okay, little Prongs, we understand the stepping forward thing. Uncle Sirius is going to let go now," Sirius was saying when we Apparated into his flat, "and you're going to walk all by yourself. Okay? 1, 2, 3..." Sirius let go of Harry's hands and rose very slowly up. Harry took a wobbly step forward with his left foot. "That's right. Now the other one." Harry lifted his right foot and fell promptly on his butt. "We've made progress!"

"We're back," Lily interrupted softly. 

"Did you see that? We've been working on that the whole time," Sirius said in a tired but satisfied voice. "Another day or two, he's walking. He's getting it. He understands the concept but the execution is a little shaky."

"Mama! Hug!" Harry chirped. Lily went over to him and picked him up, holding him in her arms. 

"You're getting a little too big for this. You'll have to pick me up soon," Lily teased. 

"So, how was lunch?" Sirius asked. For a second, we were baffled. Lunch? Then we remembered that lunch was our story for leaving Harry with him. We looked at each other. Lily sighed and sat down on Sirius' couch and said, "You tell him."

"Tell me what?"

"You'll need to sit down," I told him, sitting down myself. He shrugged and followed suit.

"Are you pregnant again or what?" Sirius asked. Lily shook her head. 

"Lord Voldemort wants to kill us. Me and Harry especially," I explained glumly.

"What? When did this happen?" Sirius demanded. "Why would he want to kill you especially? How did you find out?"

"Slow down! Now, apparently there's a prophecy that a Potter is going to bring Lord Voldemort down and he knows about it and he wants my family dead. Remember Snape?"

"Yes, the Death Eater poster child?"

"Well, he's not a Death Eater anymore, he's actually a spy so he found this out. He says..." I couldn't get it out. It stuck in my throat like a toothpick. 

"He says that one of you three is the one spying on _us_," Lily finished softly. "And before you ask, no, we don't think it's you."

"Why not?" Sirius asked.

"Because if you did, Clarissa would rise from the grave and beat your skull in," Lily joked with a wane smile. 

"Oh, that's a pleasant thought," Sirius replied and then mimicked his aunt, "Sirius, eat your vegetables! Sirius, do your homework! Sirius, it wasn't very nice to sell your friends out to Lord Voldemort!" He turned solemn again and wondered, "But what are you going to do?"

"We have to go into hiding," I explained. "We're going to do the Fidelius Charm, Snape is making the potion right now. I hope."

"You're going to drink something he prepared? Do you have a death wish?"

"We're not the only ones. You're going to have to drink it too."

"What? Why?"

"You have to be our Secret-Keeper, Sirius." 

Sirius gave me a hard look. "What is it with you and giving me these all-important tasks? First, you make me your best man. Then, you make me Harry's godfather. And now, you're making me your _Secret-Keeper_?"

"Because we trust you!" I answered. "Why is this so hard to comprehend?"

"I'm just astonished. I thought you would want Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore did offer to do it," Lily interrupted, "and he tried to convince us not to use you but James insisted."

"Please say you'll do it," I begged.

"I will but I'm warning you, when this is all over, I'm going to give you the most all-important job ever. You will be crushed by the weight of its all-importantness." 

"We'll tell you when it's time. Keep your schedule free," Lily said and then added, "You'll have to go into hiding too to make we're not found."

Sirius groaned. "I was liking my job. I was on a roll! Ah well, maybe he'll take me back after this is all over."

*** ***

The next day, we received an owl from Snape saying that the potion would be ready for the hairs on the 24th and we must go into hiding on the 25th. On the 23rd, we dashed madly about trying to put our affairs in order. However, the Longbottoms had already covered everything. They had put in an order for extended leave of absence at work "due to painful circumstances" so Lily and I were sent home. In the wish that Harry would live should we die, we combined our two accounts and added it to Harry's personal account, which already contained his one thousand Galleons that I put in there when he was born plus whatever interest they had acquired since then. I didn't bother to check. We then went through our personal possessions to find out what we could feasibly bring with us, what we had to store somewhere, and what we had to toss or sell to add some more money in the mutual account. The things that had to be put into storage, including most of our photos and my Invisibility Cloak, were sent to Dumbledore for safe keeping with a description of their value, what they were, and why we wanted to keep them. We also sent him a copy of the key for the vault, with a label saying which vault was ours. 

In the afternoon, we went to Diagon Alley with Crookshanks in tow. Lily was extremely depressed. We went into Magical Menagerie and placed Crookshanks on the desk. 

"What's that you got there?" the clerk said.

"He's our cat. We're going on a trip and we have nowhere to put him. I hear that you sometimes keep pets."

"Up to a year, that's right. After a year, he'll be back on the market and will be sold to whoever wants him."

"Yeah, I know. How much is it?"

"A Galleon to get him in here. A Sickle for each month he's in here when you collect him." Lily nodded and paid the Galleon. The clerk took the hissing feline in his carrying cage and went into the back. He came back into the main room and asked, "Anything else?"

"No," Lily answered glumly. I rubbed her shoulder. 

"Well, then, enjoy your trip. Bon voyage and all that," he said, pronouncing "bon voyage" wrong. 

*** ***

Around six o'clock, we were playing with Harry on the floor, pretending that we were not in mortal peril, when the phone rang. We looked at each other, perplexed. No one called us on our phone, we only had a phone to call anyone in Muggle society and only Mrs. Evans ever called us on it, when she remembered the number. 

"Must be your mother," I said.

"Do you think Dumbledore told her anything?" Lily wondered. I shrugged. She rose and answered the ringing phone. "Hello? Yes, this is she." There was a long pause. "You don't know?" Another pause. "I suppose... that happens sometimes. No, I don't know what could have scared her so badly. You say there were green lights in the sky?" Another pause. "Yes, I'm still here. Does my sister know? I see. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. No, I'll talk to my sister about it. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. Thank you. Good-bye." Lily hung up. She didn't move, just held the phone in the cradle. 

"Lily? Is everything alright?"

"My parents are dead," she answered in monotone. 

"Both of them? When?"

"This morning. They couldn't find our number because they didn't know who I was married to. Not that we're in the book or anything."

"How? How did they die?"

"They don't know what killed my mother. I have an idea. They said she was perfectly healthy except the being dead part. They think she may have died from fright from the expression on her face. Add that to the green lights in the sky forming the shape of a skull, it must have been the Killing Curse. My father found her when he returned from a business trip. He was so horrified that he had a heart attack as he called the hospital. He died later on the table."

"Oh, Lily. I'm so sorry."

"I have to plan the funeral. I'm sure Petunia is already on it but I want to help."

"You do realize when that funeral will take place, right? Lily, we can't go. We have to go into hiding the day after tomorrow!"

"MY PARENTS ARE DEAD, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Lily! Do you think it's a coincidence? They want us _dead_. If you go to that funeral, we'll be planning a funeral for you next. You can't go! Think of where you'll be, surrounded by Muggles. It will be a massacre!"

"Why can't I just be a Muggle?! Why do I have to know about all this horror?! Why did I go to Hogwarts in the first place?! I should've torn that letter up! I'M IN HELL!" Harry started to wail.

"Lily, stop it! You need to calm down!"

"Why did I ever marry you?! He's just wants you dead, not me! I should've never met you! I should've thrown that letter away!"

"Lily, you don't know what you're saying!"

"I CAN'T EVEN ATTEND MY OWN PARENTS' FUNERAL!" Harry started crying harder. "SHUT UP, HARRY! THIS IS YOUR FAULT TOO!"

"Lily! That's your son!" I exclaimed. 

"Good God, I hate you! I hate you both! I hate this world of magic where everyone has to keep secrets and friends spy on each other! I hate this! I hate this! Most of all, I HATE YOU!" Sobbing, Lily dashed up the stairs, leaving me staring at the space she was before, open-mouthed. Harry was still screaming at my feet. I picked him up and rocked back and forth as I hushed him. 

"Mama," Harry whimpered. 

"I know, you want Mummy but Daddy is all you've got right now."

"Dada," he mumbled, burying his face in my shoulder. 

"Don't worry, Daddy's here now. Daddy's always going to be here."

*** ***

Thirty minutes later, I put Harry down in his crib and went to our room. The door was ajar and I could still hear Lily weeping. As quietly as I could, I opened the door. Lily was lying face down on the bed, crying into her arms. 

"Lily?" I whispered. She didn't respond. I sat down on the bed next to her and stroked her hair. 

"James?" Lily mumbled. 

"Would you like me to leave?" I asked. Lily shook her head. "You know that I love you."

"I didn't mean those things."

"I know. I understand."

Lily raised her head to look at me. Her eyes were all red and puffy and her face was tear streaked. "James, I'm glad I met you. I'm glad that I had Harry." She flipped on to her back.

"I'm glad too. You're the most wonderful woman in the world. I'm so sorry this is happening."

"It's not your fault, you didn't ask for this." I kissed her and she relaxed. "James?"

"What?" I mumbled as I kissed her on the lips again.

"When's the last time we made love?"

"Ages ago. Harry's asleep, no one is going to come." She took off my glasses and I began to undo her buttons. I kissed her again.

"James! Lily!" We bit back a scream and looked in each other's eyes with the same thought: Kill Sirius. "Where are you two? I need to talk!"

"Oh, he needs to talk," I hissed sarcastically, "couldn't he wait an hour?"

"It's just as well. It is rather crude to get it on when my parents have just passed away." Lily redid her buttons and I put my glasses on. "How do I look?" Her eyes were still puffy and blood-shot.

"Like you've just been crying. Wash your face."

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Sirius shouted from downstairs.

"We're coming!" I answered angrily. I walked down the stairs to find Sirius pacing madly in our sitting room.

"There you are! I was beginning to think you already went into hiding," Sirius answered. "Where's Lily?"

"In the toilet. What do you want?"

"No, I want to tell it when Lily comes down." We waited for Lily to finish washing her face and come downstairs. 

"Okay, what's the big thing you had to burst in here for?" I demanded. 

Sirius' eyes lit up. "I have a perfect plan!"

"For what?"

"To ensure that you all come out this alive."

"We have one. The whole Fidelius Charm thing."

"Yes, but there's a major flaw in it," Sirius argued. "Lily, when James went on that drinking episode after his father died and he didn't come home, who did you call first?"

"You," Lily answered.

"Why was that?"

"You're his friend?" Lily suggested, nervously. 

"Exactly! Everyone who even remotely knows James knows that I, Sirius Black, is James' best friend and that he would trust me with his and his family's lives."

"What's your point? There's no other way!" I reminded. 

"I still think that the Fidelius Charm is a good plan but I want to make a little change," Sirius suggested and then concluded proudly, "Don't use me."

Lily growled. "Sirius! So, we have to use Dumbledore after all, why didn't you just..."

"Wait! I'm not done yet! Use someone else but tell everyone that I'm the Secret-Keeper." He looked at us for approval. He was obviously very proud of himself. 

"That makes no sense," Lily replied. "Don't use you but say you are anyway?"

"Right! See, the entire planet could know where you're hiding but as long as the Secret-Keeper keeps his mouth shut, no one will ever find it! Here is how it works: If and when they find me, even if I tell them where you are, they'll go there and won't be able to find you! Even if they kill me! So, when they do find the real Secret-Keeper and he says the same place, they'll think he's lying and won't go. It also buys the Secret-Keeper more time if they have to deal with the fake Secret-Keeper first! It is the perfect bluff! No one would think that you would use anyone other than me!"

"Okay, that's great but who are we supposed to use if we have you as the bluff?" I demanded. 

"We'd need someone close enough that we could trust and not someone too obvious, so that leaves out Dumbledore too," Lily answered.

"We should use Remus," I suggested.

"NO!" Sirius snapped venomously. 

"Why not Remus?" I asked angrily. "What is the matter with Remus? You've been on his back for over a year now! Do you mind telling me why?"

"I think that Remus is the spy," Sirius answered coldly. 

I laughed bitterly. "Remus? Mr. Too Good To Be True Remus Lupin? Are we discussing the same person?"

"Remus isn't the same boy he was in school! I'm telling you, he is the spy!"

"Oh, really? Oh, then tell me, how did you find this out? Because it's news to me!"

Sirius sat down on the couch and crossed his arms in mock calm. "Fine. I'll tell you. Have you ever noticed that Remus is always home when bad things happen to us? Strange how that works, isn't it?"

"It's just a coincidence, Sirius!" I replied.

"Or how Remus, who is always on top of everything and has an excellent memory, suddenly leaves his license at Customs? And he spends an awful long time there?"

"You know how Customs are! They're nuts!"

"And it just so happened to be the same day that Marguerite got attacked and he noticed the so-called missing license an hour before her attack? Or, try this, how come he asked for her address that night as well?"

"Peter did too! Are you saying they're in cahoots?"

"Remus asked _first_. What did he need her address for? I didn't exactly ask for any of his co-workers addresses, did I? And as for Peter, one of his mother's students lives down the street from her so of course Peter asked."

"This is ridiculous, Sirius! You could say the same things about Peter and he's not a Death Eater, is he? I mean, he was gone too."

"Blithe backed up his story. He has an alibi and a witness. Remus has neither."

"I fail to see the defining difference between Peter and Remus!"

"The difference between Remus and Peter is that Remus is a werewolf."

"You did not just say that! I thought you were better than that, Sirius!"

"I'm not saying that Remus is a werewolf therefore he is evil. I am saying that Remus is a werewolf therefore he does not get steady work or have a nice life, which makes him mad. We both know that Remus is a smart person but he can't get the jobs that suit his abilities. We both know Remus would like to start a little nest of his own but the minute women find out about his affliction, they run for the hills. I mean, what happened to Hilda? I bet you anything that she found out what he was and split. And you saw how Remus reacted to Blithe. He can't stand it when someone does better than him because he knows he deserves better than what he's got. If I was him, I would be mad too."

"It's not true," I whispered.

"It is true. What does the world have to offer him? Loneliness, poverty, and prejudice. Woo-hoo. He's made his choice, he's told the world to go to Hell. Believe me, he has the talent and motive to change sides. Peter doesn't have that."

"I think we shouldn't use Remus, James," Lily muttered.

"Don't tell me you believe that Remus is a Death Eater!" I cried.

"No. I was just thinking, Remus is too obvious as well. Peter might be a better choice. He's close enough that we trust him but not so close that he'll be the first or second person they think of. I mean, people think he was just a tagalong. We all know he wasn't but that is what people believe." Lily glared at Sirius. "But I refuse to believe that Remus has betrayed us. I think that Snape is just making a wild guess."

"Fine, don't believe me, even though it's perfectly obvious."

"So, should we tell Peter now?" I asked.

"No, I'll tell him tomorrow morning and he'll get back to you. Just don't tell anyone about the switch, not even Dumbledore. Furthermore, we should both write a letter to Remus saying that I'm the Secret-Keeper. If he's not the spy, then oh, well, he won't do anything. If he is, then he'll turn me in and prove his guilt."

"We'll do it after Peter has agreed," Lily stated. "If Peter says no, then we'll go back to the original plan of just using you, Sirius."

"Fine." He got up and laughed. "Sometimes, I'm so clever, I could just scream."

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: Of course, _you_ probably want to scream right now. "DON'T USE PETER!!!" See, I told you that chapter 17 was important. I spent a lot of time thinking, "How can I make Remus look guilty?" It was basically the set-up for Sirius thinking that Remus is the traitor. I bet you saw that "Snape attacked Clarissa" thing a mile away. The bit where Sirius is making fun of Clarissa's rising from the dead and scolding him is actually from a Ron/Hermione parody I saw once. Basically, Ron complains that Hermione always nags him and those are the examples he used, even the "selling out to Lord Voldemort" although in the parody, it's his family that he betrayed. He concludes with, "God, you're not my mother!" to which Hermione replies, "You're right, I'm not your mother" and they kiss each other. Even though I'm a huge Ron/Hermione fan, that was the best parody I had ever seen. If you're the author of that parody, please stand up and tell me. I'll add your name to this little author's note. I think it was on a message board at Fictionalley.net. Sorry for that scene with Lily screaming at Harry, she still loves him. There, are you happy now, Naisumi? I killed Mrs. Evans. Naisumi does not like Mrs. Evans and kept begging me to kill her. "Is she dead yet?" "No." "Is she dead yet?" "No." "Is she dead yet?" "No." "Is she dead yet?" "I'm getting to it!" I had always planned to kill her but Naisumi was so adamant about it. I'm thinking two more chapters for us, depending on how long the next two are. It might spill over into three but I doubt it. We'll see. Review! Please! Press the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	29. Huis Clos

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Twenty-nine: Huis Clos

The next morning, Sirius Apparated into our sitting room again with the news that Peter had accepted to do the switch.

"Are you sure no one else knows?" Lily asked.

"Well, to be honest, Blithe was there..."

"Sirius! I thought the whole point was for no one to know!"

"I know. It's okay. Blithe slept through the whole conversation. She was in the bedroom, I went in there without realizing it and I woke her up but she was still half-asleep even then. So, she didn't hear anything. Peter says that she can sleep through anything."

"What was she doing there?" Lily asked. We raised our eyebrows at her. She blushed. "Oh, yeah, forgot."

"Anyway, when Snape, ick, brings the potion, you just tell him that I'll be having it right away and then head to Peter's flat. He's going to wait all day. I'll be picking you up in a rented car at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning and we'll head to Godric's Hollow."

"That's great. How are we going to keep Blithe away though? Or Marguerite? You _both_ have to hide."

"Oh, don't worry. Peter and I are going to come down with mono today. We won't be able to see anybody," Sirius explained with a smile. 

"Are you going to be alright in my family's old manor? Most of the stuff is gone, it must look like a ghost house," I said.

"Don't worry. Thanks for the map of the hidden passages, though. Peter is just going to stay in his flat. He doesn't want to be too obvious about it. I couldn't talk him out of it. I'm going to be checking up on him every week. If I don't show up, that's his cue to get out and warn Dumbledore. That's the only way he's going to find out, if I'm captured. I'm going to take good care of him, don't worry. He'll be treated like a little king."

"All hail King Wormtail," I joked. "Hey, that rhymes."

"Well, I think that's everything. I'll see you tomorrow morning then," Sirius promised and Apparated. 

An hour later, Snape arrived with four vials full of a clear liquid. He repeated the instructions that Dumbledore had given and we made sure to mention that Sirius was our Secret-Keeper.

"You're making a grave mistake," Snape hissed before he left. 

"Nope. Good day, Snape," I replied and he Apparated. We then Flooed to Peter's flat.

*** ***

Peter was stirring a spoon in a cup of half-drunk tea. He was staring blankly at his kitchen wall. Peter's flat is clean but sparse. The doors always have a clear space, you can swing the doors wide open and touch nothing with the door. There is a lot of walking room because he bought things that were compact and took up as least space as possible. His furniture can very well be a portrait of himself: compact, neat, comfortable, and unobtrusive. 

"One minute earlier and you would've ran into Blithe. That would have been awkward," Peter said, not looking at us. 

"How's the mono?" Lily joked.

Peter coughed. "Working on it."

"She really didn't hear anything?" 

"No. As soon as Sirius made to close the door, she had dozed off again. I practically had to drag her out of bed. She was nearly late for teaching Dance Dueling. I bet she doesn't even remember waking up the first time."

"Well, as long as she doesn't know. It's not that we don't trust her..."

"You just can't take any chances. I understand." Peter took out the spoon and sipped the cup. He grimaced. "Not my tea," he croaked. He pointed to another cup on the table. "That's my tea." He pulled it over and sipped it. "Cold." He took out his wand and heated it up with a spell. "Sit down," he said as he sipped it. He nodded in satisfaction and set it aside. I wondered whether he would leave it until it got cold again and repeat the same process over and over. We came over to sit. Harry squawked in his carrier. "Babies don't like me," Peter sang softly. 

"Well, he has to learn to like you someday," Lily said. 

"Let's just start so we can finish packing," I suggested. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Peter asked. 

"Why do you ask that?" Lily inquired. 

"I'm just wondering if you really want me to be the Secret-Keeper. Do you trust me?"

"Of course we trust you, Peter. We trust you with our lives," I replied.

"You can always back out and insist on Sirius, you know," Peter added. 

"Peter, we trust you. We want you to. We all do," Lily insisted. 

"Well, I just want to state for the record that this was not my idea but yours and Sirius'," Peter said in a tone I had never heard him use before. It sent shivers down my spine and still don't know why. He then laughed. "Relax! I'm as nervous about this as you are! I just don't want everyone yelling at me if something goes wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong," Lily assured Peter with a pat on his wand hand. "We're all going to make it."

"Yes," Peter replied, smiling, "we're going to make it."

We explained to Peter how to do the Charm and we all plucked out our hairs. We performed the charm on each other. Harry cried the entire time. I don't blame him. The potion was disgusting.

*** ***

Godric's Hollow is the summer home of my family. It was fairly isolated from both wizards and Muggles. It is surrounded by trees, which hide the house from view. Only one unpaved dirt road leads up to it.

Sirius picked us up when he said he would and we put all the belongings in the boot. Sirius took the driver's seat, I sat shot-gun and Lily and Harry sat in the back. We rode in silence as we passed houses and cities, adults going to an early lunch, children playing in the school-yards, separate from it all. 

"Say," Sirius suggested, "why don't I turn on the radio?" We nodded and he flipped to a random station. 

"Hey, it's Lucille and this is the radio station that everyone loves to play at work. It's a quarter after eleven and we're going to have another hour of non-stop music. Here's Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody', by request."

"This is an old song," Lily said. "I like Queen."

I had never heard the song before and it went like this:

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide

No escape from reality

Open your eyes 

Look up to the skies and see

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy

Because I'm easy come, easy go

A little high, little low

Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me,

To me

At this point, there was a piano part. I commented, "Do you think Peter could play that?"

"I don't know," Lily replied.

"I bet he could," Sirius answered. "When we all get back to normal, we'll get him a recording so he hear it and play it."

The singing began again:

Mama, just killed a man

Put a gun against his head

Pulled my trigger, now he's dead,

Mama, life had just begun,

But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Mama ooo,

Didn't mean to make you cry

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow

Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come,

Send shivers down my spine

Body's aching all the time,

Goodbye everybody, I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

Mama ooo (any way the wind blows)

I don't want to die,

I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

"Oh, turn it off," Lily protested. "It's so maudlin."

"It's getting to the good bit," Sirius answered.

"I don't care. Turn it off." Sirius turned it off and we rode again in silence. The houses grew farther and farther apart and the busy city streets gave way to farms. We drove and we drove. 

"Locked Away" was stuck in my head again. "I hate when that happens."

"What?" Sirius asked.

"When you get a song stuck in your head and you can't get it out."

"Do you have 'Bohemian Rhapsody' stuck in your head?"

"No, a song called 'Locked Away'. "

Lily growled. "Why all these sad songs?"

"No, 'Locked Away' is actually a happy song." I sang the refrain and, once I was done, I explained, "It's basically a love song. It was written after Grindelwald fell. The singer basically is joking that the next time there's a war, she'll hide him so he won't leave her again."

"It sounds like a song for psychopaths," Lily remarked and began did an impression of a maniac, wringing her hands and breathing really hard. "I'm going to lock you up and keep you forever."

"Okay, stop that. You're scaring me," Sirius replied.

"You two have no soul. I mean, how about songs of today? They _all_ sound like stalkers. Love songs have always been like that. 'I love you, I need you...'" I replied. 

"'I'll lock you up in my cupboard'," Lily added, laughing.

"'And I will pet you and love you and dress you up in the most pretty outfits'," Sirius joked. 

"You people are impossible," I muttered as I stared out the window. "I wonder when I heard that song the first time."

"The first time? When your mum died, isn't it?" Sirius suggested.

"No, I swear I've heard it before." Like a bolt of lightning, I remembered. I gasped. 

"What?" they both asked.

"I remember now. When I was born, the doctors told my parents that even if I lived, I would never see my sixth birthday."

"So?" Sirius wondered. 

"Right before my sixth birthday, we went to Godric's Hollow for the weekend. After I had gone to sleep, I guess my parents realized that Saturday was my sixth birthday and I was obviously still alive. I remember waking up and hearing music from the sitting room below my bedroom. I crept down the stairs and saw my parents dancing to the music. They were laughing and my father was spinning my mother around. Then they saw me and my father scooped me from the bottom of the stairs and they spun me around and passed me around between them. And they played the same song over and over. It was 'Locked Away'." I smiled. "It was the only time I ever saw my parents dance anything other than a slow waltz. I had forgotten all about it."

"Well, that must be a good sign," Sirius said after a long moment. "If you remember that. You were supposed to die and you lived so now you'll live because both times you were at Godric's Hollow at the point when you were supposed to die."

"That's kind of a convoluted sign," I replied.

"Shut up. It works for me."

We drove and drove some more. After an hour of driving, I saw the outline of the summer house in the trees. I had never been to Godric's Hollow in the autumn and it looks less impressive than it does in the summer. The trees have lost half their leaves, making them look like black skeletal hands wearing threadbare gloves. It is rather depressing. Maybe it is just the situation that makes it depressing. 

Sirius kept driving without any indication of slowing down. The house loomed into view and still he looked blankly ahead at the same speed. The house grew larger and larger until Lily screamed, "Stop!"

The car lurched as Sirius slammed on the brake. "What?" Sirius asked. "Did you forget something?"

Lily and I looked exasperatedly at him. "The house is there. You can stop," Lily explained.

"Where?"

"There!" I answered. 

"Where? I don't see the house."

"You don't see the huge structure in front of you?!"

"I see trees and more trees. Is it behind the trees?" Sirius asked, shifting as if to get a better view, turning his head this way and that. 

"It's right there!" I screamed, pointing at it. "Right in front of your face!"

"Let me get this straight. You both see a house that I can not."

"Yes," Lily answered then gasped slightly. "The charm! You can't see the house because of the Fidelius Charm!"

"Oh, that makes sense," Sirius said. "I wonder what would happen if I smash the car into it."

"NO!"

"I'm not going to. I'm just wondering if you can hurt the house even if you can't see it. I mean, can it be lit on fire?"

"I don't know. Come on, we have to unload and get inside. The longer we sit in here, the more time Lord Voldemort gets to find us," I said, opening the door and getting out of the car. The others got out as well and went to the boot of the car. Sirius heaved all the boxes and bags we had thrown in there. I picked up two bags of stuff and went towards the house. Leaving the stuff on the porch, I headed back. 

"James! Come lift this!" Lily asked as I came forward.

"James is at the house still," Sirius said as he pulled another box out of the car. 

"No, James is right here."

Sirius turned around and I waved and said, "Hi. I'm back!" Sirius stared blankly and his eyes darted from left to right and he spun around as he searched for me. 

"Where?" he asked Lily.

"Here!" Lily answered, pointing at me. 

"I don't see anyone."

"James, say something, really loud."

"My name is James Harold Potter!" I shouted. Lily looked at Sirius and he shook his head. 

"I didn't hear anything."

"I guess there's a boundary line where we start to be affected by the charm. Since I took the potion, I can still see and hear James. Well, lift that box, anyway."

"Sure," I agreed, bending down to pick up the box but my hands went right through. "Lily, I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"My hands go right through it. See?" I tried to pick up the box again and I couldn't touch it. Cautiously, Lily stepped forward, her hand outstretched. Slowly, she touched my shoulder, or tried to. Her hand went right through to the other side. We screamed and she recoiled backwards into Sirius. 

"What now?" he asked.

"My hand went right through him," she explained, grimacing and shaking with horror. "That was creepy!"

"So, he can't touch anything?" Sirius asked.

"No, he can't. I wonder how far it is until it takes effect," Lily asked aloud. Before either of us could stop her, she walked forward. When she was a short distance beyond the car, Sirius fell to his and growled. 

"Good job, Lily! Now I can't see you either!" Sirius shouted. "What if I can't cross that line at all? How is Harry going to get over there?" We gasped. He had a point. If Harry was unprotected, then the whole thing was worthless. "No point in not trying. If I can't get him over, I'm going to Peter and canceling the spell. We'll have to do it all over again." Sirius picked up Harry in his carrier and slowly walked forward, keeping his arm stretched out so Harry was far in front of him. "If I lose my hand, I'm going to be so angry with you two!" Finally, Harry went over the boundary line and his carrier went through Sirius' tightly clenched fingers. Lily managed to catch him in time. Sirius yelped. "He's gone!" He went on his knees and felt the ground around him. "I can't feel him on the ground. I hope one of you caught him. I didn't drop him, he just vanished! Hey, I'm over the line," Sirius remarked. He crawled further forward and looked around. "I can't see any of you. I think the boundary only applies to you. Let's just hope I can get your stuff over to you." He went back to the car and picked up the box that Lily had wanted before. "Here goes." He walked forward and crossed the boundary. "The box is still here. I'm going to put it down now." He placed it down and walked back. "It's still there. One of you, try picking it up." I nodded and went over to it. I could touch it and lifted it up. Sirius gasped. "It's gone. I guess if I bring it over there and you touch it, it's protected too. Well, I'll do that then. Don't go away." He walked back to the car and picked up more bags and placed them over the boundary line and walked back. He did this again and again, saying. "It's weird, knowing you're there and not seeing you or hearing you. And seeing all that stuff disappear. Really spooky. Remember that time you showed me your Invisibility Cloak? I still can't believe you did that. We had a lot of fun in those days. And I'm going to tell all that stuff to Harry, all the stuff you're going to leave out. I'll tell him all your dirty little secrets. Then again, you'll probably do the same to me. That's alright. I wanted to tell you before but you two vanished and everything so I'll tell you now. If it's over by Christmas, I'm going to ask Marguerite to marry me again. I'm going to ask her at Christmas. You have to be my best man, James. I told you I'd give you an all-important task when you get out, so there you go. And you're going to be the godfather of whatever child we have later on. Sorry, Lily, but I think Marguerite should have the right to pick the godmother. Tell you what, if we have another child, I'm going to insist that you're the godmother. She can pick the godfather for that one. We'll trade off. Uh, thanks for letting me use that account of yours for food and stuff. I won't use it for anything else, I promise." Sirius heaved the last box on to the ground. I touched it. "That's everything," Sirius sighed. "Don't go yet," he insisted. "I want to talk a little bit. I know you can't answer but it's like visiting my relatives, they don't talk back either." Sirius sat on the ground, cross-legged. "I wish I could say I'm not afraid to die because I am. I don't want to die but I know that's what is going to happen. I know I said I'd marry Marguerite and have kids and all that but I don't really think it's going to happen. I know they're going to kill me. But if my death saves both of you, Harry, and Peter, then that's okay. I'm willing to die for you." Sirius began to choke up. He rubbed his eyes. "I know this is going to end. He can't last forever. I know that you're going to be around to see it and you'll watch Harry grow up, have a few more kids, and generally be happy. And I think that's what you all deserve. If I'm not there when it happens, could you do me a small favor?" He took a deep breath. "Could you... visit my parents and Clarissa? On their deathdays? My parents died November 4th and Clarissa died July 31st. This year, I'm asking Marguerite to do it, since I supposedly have mono, but if I die, I don't want to burden her forever. I want to move on with her life and be happy. I'm only asking you because you're my friends and I know my parents would have liked you and I know that Clarissa certainly did. I don't want them to feel neglected. If you can't do it, that's okay. I understand. I'll watch over you, especially Harry, since I'm his godfather." Sirius gulped. "I'm dragging the inevitable out. It's getting late. I'm going to go now." He got up, brushed himself off longer than he usually would, and began to walk backwards to the car. "This is going to end," he called. "Good-bye, James. Good-bye, Lily. Good-bye, Harry." As if wanting to go before he broke down, he wretched the driver's side door open and got in. The car roared to life and Sirius slowly pulled away, turned around, and drove out of sight. Lily fell to her knees and sobbed. I waved slowly, even though he couldn't possibly see me, and whispered, "Good-bye, Sirius."

*** ***

I was back in my bed in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. It was dark and no one but me was there. I could hear sounds of the Gryffindor Common Room down below. I rose out of bed. I was wearing regular clothes and I was the same age I was when I entered Godric's Hollow with Lily. 

I opened the door and headed down the stairs. I saw Lily heading down the stairs as well from the girls' dorms. She looked up at me. "James?"

"Lily?"

"What are we doing here? Weren't we in Godric's Hollow since Monday?"

"Let's go investigate," I said, taking her by the hand. We headed down the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The place was crammed with students, all alive and full of energy. A few, like a pudgy boy who had Olivia's body type but Frank's features, although softer, struggled over homework assignment. The boy muttered darkly, "I hate Potions." Some were lounging around, like an Indian girl and her companion, who was saying, "I really like that song by the Weird Sisters, what is it?" The Indian girl replied, "Hum a few bars." Most were laughing and playing games, like a couple consisting of a red-haired boy and bushy-haired girl playing chess. The girl made a move. "Check," she said smugly. The boy made a move. "Checkmate. I win again." A boy was reading _Flying with the Cannons_ beside them. The boy reading snickered. "Oh, like you win all the time," the girl snapped.

Suddenly, everyone froze. Lily and I looked around us madly. "What is going on?"

"This is the Hogwarts that Harry, when he's old, will remember," a voice said. We whirled around to find out who was speaking but everyone but us was frozen.

"Who's there?" Lily demanded. 

We heard a book being shut closed with a loud bang. We spun towards the sound. The boy who had been reading _Flying with the Cannons_ placed the book in his lap and smiled at us. The boy had green eyes behind his glasses and black hair that stuck up everywhere. He was dressed in Hogwarts robe and his wand was in his pocket. 

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Who am I really or whose form am I taking?" the boy asked. 

"What does it matter whose form you're taking?" Lily wondered.

"Well, it matters a lot. The boy that I look like is Harry Potter at the age of fifteen. And yes, I mean Harry Potter who is your son. As I said, this is the Hogwarts that he will remember. As all nostalgic memories, it's not quite accurate. See that blond boy with that camera? He looks about eleven there but in reality, he will be fourteen when he is the age I am taking. Harry will always think of him as some bright-eyed annoying little kid. See those three red-haired boys over there? By the time those twins reach that age, the older one, Percy, will have already left Hogwarts. So, this isn't quite accurate but it is what Harry will think of when he looks back."

"Who are you really?"

He stood and replied calmly, "I am Harold James Potter, late father of James Harold Potter, late grandfather of Harry James Potter."

"Father?" I gasped. 

"Yes, James. According the rules of Heaven, I can't appear in my true to life form so I have to take the form of another. Since this concerns Harry, I thought it would be appropriate to be him for this."

"Heaven has rules for dreams?" Lily asked.

"Yes, and even paperwork. They don't let just anyone provide dreams to the living, especially to living relatives. We also can't reveal too much, that's why dreams really vague. It's against the rules to say more than we promised."

"What will happen if you break that rule?"

"Your memory of the dream will be erased and I will be forbidden to ever use a dream to communicate again. They do not take cheating lightly." My father smiled and suggested, "Come. There isn't much time." He snapped his fingers.

*** ***

Suddenly, we were outside by the lake. A huge Grim-like dog was running furiously towards us. His muzzle and back were bleeding, his blood glistened in the full moonlight. He would stop occasionally and look into the grass. "Padfoot?"

"That is Sirius," my father replied.

"What is he looking for?" Lily asked. 

"I can not tell you. I can tell you that we are looking at an event that has a high chance of occurring in June of the year 1994, thirteen years from now," my father explained. He pointed off into the distance, to Padfoot's left and right. "Look at what's coming."

We gasped. Dozens upon dozens of dementors were gliding over to him. Padfoot didn't see them, he was intent on finding whatever it was he wanted in the grass. Slowly, he stopped and shook his head madly as if trying to clear his head. He did it again. Finally, he looked up and turned his head to one side and the other. His eyes went wide with fright. The dementors were coming in quickly. Padfoot began to whine and yelp, frozen to the spot. If dogs could scream, he would have been doing it.

We could hear the sound of two people running towards the mass of dementors and Padfoot. Suddenly, in mid-yelp, Padfoot changed into Sirius. Lily screamed and I nearly fell over from shock.

Sirius looked like he was dead. His face was slashed, like Padfoot's muzzle, and he had a black eye but that wasn't the worst of it. His face, usually so full of vigor, was pale and shadowed. The skin was stretched tight over his skull as if he hadn't eaten in years. His hands were skeletal and his hair was a dirty, tangled mess that fell to his elbows. His eyes were the most frightening. They were hollow, like the windows of an abandoned house. He was a living corpse, his body was breathing but his soul was gone. I gasped when I realized what he was wearing: dirty, tattered grey Azkaban robes.

"No," I muttered, shaking my head madly. "This isn't real! This isn't true!"

"I'm afraid so, James. Sirius Black will be thrown into Azkaban without trial and remain there with dementors around him day and night with no friendly visitors for twelve years. He will escape in July of 1993," my father answered.

"Why?!" My father looked away, his face pained. "You can't say," I muttered sadly. 

Whatever Sirius had planned to do when in his human form, he suddenly realized he couldn't do it. He fell to all fours, his hands hiding his head. He moaned, "Nooo... nooo... please..." The two runners came through the hole between the two dementors. One was the bushy-haired girl who lost the chess game in the memory Common Room, the other was Harry Potter. Both appeared to be around thirteen or fourteen years old. They were badly injured as well, as if both had been in a fight. More dementors closed in, coming from the forest as well, blocking the way back. Harry spun around, taking in the sight. He went pale.

"Hermione, think of something happy!" he yelled at the bushy-haired girl as he raised his wand. He began to chant, "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!" Sirius shuddered, rolled over, and lay still. He had fainted. Harry noticed and shouted, "Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto..." Hermione whispered, "expecto... expecto..." The dementors closed in, barely ten feet from them. They were forming a wall.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" There was a thin wisp of silver mist that came out of his wand. At that moment, Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed. "Expecto... expecto patronum..."

Harry fell to his knees. "Expecto patronum!" he gasped. Another feeble mist appeared which halted the dementor nearest him but it moved to brush it away

"No... _no_..." Harry gasped. "He's innocent... expecto... expecto patronum..." The dementor nearest him lowered its hood.

Lily screamed, "NOT HARRY! NOT HARRY! PLEASE NOT HARRY!"

The Patronus died as Harry looked up at the dementor with scabs for eyes and a wide, sucking mouth.

"Now," my father said calmly, "I want to turn your attention away from this Harry and look on the other shore. Don't worry, he'll make it."

Reluctantly, we turned around. I could hear Harry whispering, "Expecto patronum..." repeatedly. On the other shore, there was nothing. Suddenly, a figure jumped out from behind a bush, snapped his wand arm up, and he pointed in the direction of the dementors and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A glowing stag galloped out of his wand, across the lake and crashed through the mass of dementors. One dementor who appeared to be trying to Kiss him dropped Harry. Harry, barely conscious, looked across the lake. The stag galloped back to the caster. The caster reached out as if to touch it. It vanished. 

"My Patronus," I whispered. "That's my Patronus! My Patronus is Prongs! We're alive, Lily! I saved Harry!"

"Well, yes and no," my father interrupted. "First, how are you sure that you cast it?"

"Well, I know my Patronus and that figure looked like me," I answered. My father snapped his fingers.

*** ***

We were now outside Hagrid's hut. Hermione and Harry were crouched in the bushes with a hippogriff, of all things.

"This is about fifteen minutes before the event you just saw. Now, here's where it gets confusing. Hermione and Harry have just used a Time Turner to go back in time. They've been sitting here for three hours now. So, they're going to be attacked by dementors in a few minutes and at the same time, not getting attacked by dementors," my father explained.

"There goes Lupin," Hermione whispered. "He's transforming..."

"Hermione!" Harry said suddenly. "We've got to move!"

"We mustn't, I keep telling you..."

"Not to interfere! Lupin's going to run into the forest, right at us!"

Hermione gasped. "Quick!" she moaned, dashing to untie the hippogriff. "Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The dementors will be coming any moment..."

"Back to Hagrid's!" Harry said. "It's empty now... come on!"

They ran with the hippogriff cantering behind them. As they moved, we were pulled along. I noticed that my father's feet didn't touch the ground. He was floating. I heard a werewolf howl behind us.

The cabin came into sight. Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open, and Hermione and the hippogriff flashed past him; Harry threw himself in after them and bolted the door. A boarhound barked loudly.

"Shh, Fang, it's us!" Hermione said, hurrying over and scratching his ears. "That was really close!" she said to Harry.

Harry looked out the window. "I think I'd better go outside again, you know," Harry said slowly. "I can't see what's going on... we won't know when it's time..." Hermione looked up with a suspicious expression. "I'm not going to try and interfere," Harry said quickly. "But if we don't see what's going on, how're we going to know when it's time to rescue Sirius?"

"Well... okay, then... I'll wait with Buckbeak... but Harry, be careful... there's a werewolf out there... and the dementors..."

Harry stepped outside again and edged around the cabin. I could hear Padfoot yelping in the distance. Harry stared out across the lake. Harry ran to the opposite shore and ducked behind a bush, watching the dementors. Harry's Patroni glimmered and faded. 

Lily and I looked around madly for me to show up but my father remained focused on Harry. "Come on!" Harry muttered, staring about. "Where are you? Dad, come on..."

No one came. We all looked across the lake and one dementor was lowering his hood. In the bush, Harry's eyes went wide. He flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled.

A large glowing stag burst forth and galloped across the lake, knocking the dementors aside until the dementors scattered and left. The Patronus turned and cantered back to Harry. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head.

"_Prongs_," Harry, Lily, and I whispered. Harry stretched trembling fingertips towards the creature and it vanished.

"Now," my father said calmly. I noticed that time had stopped as Hermione stopped in mid-step as she dragged the hippogriff behind her. "We all know that..."

"Father," I interrupted, "why do Harry and I share the same Patronus form?"

My father paused and looked at me. "The Patronus is powered by happy memories but its form comes from what we _aspire to be_. The reason that Prongs is your Patronus is because you always wanted that strong, quiet dignity that Prongs seemed to possess when you became him. You always lamented that you were too weak-willed, not strong enough or brave enough. Even now."

"How do you...?"

"Now that I am dead, I know everything." He smiled, his eyes full of pride. "All the while, you failed to realize that you already have these qualities. Your act of the most bravery is coming soon. You have become Prongs, James. The strengths that were exclusively reserved for your Animagus form are now present in all aspect of your life." My father looked at the still Harry with eyes full of affection and love. "Your son, when he grows up, will hear of what kind of man you are now. And his highest goal will to be just like you. You wanted to be Prongs and you are now Prongs. Therefore, Harry also will want to be Prongs, through Prongs, you. And trust me, he will."

"So, his Patronus is James, in reality," Lily whispered. 

My father nodded. "Now, as I was saying. We know that the Patronus Charm is very difficult for a thirteen-year-old to do, no matter how talented. So, how did he get the ability? We also know that the Patronus is a protection. Patronus even means 'protection'. It is protection against dark creatures. It's most useful against dementors which cause misery to anyone around them. They can even take your soul. They are horrifying creatures, the most vile things to walk the earth, without a touch of goodness in them." My father looked at us and asked in a stressed tone, "What does this remind you of?"

I shrugged but Lily gasped, "It's so simple! Why didn't I see it before?"

My father smiled and slowly nodded. "Now, there isn't much time. I love you all and I'm watching over you." 

He snapped his fingers.

To Be Continued...

Author's Notes: The chapter title "Huis Clos" is the title of a French play. It's pronounced WE-clo and it literally means "closed door". The English translation is called "No Exit". It's by Sartre. Basically, the point is that there are three characters who are dead and they are in Hell. They have no connection to each other. They are locked in this one room in Hell and they have to remain there for the rest of eternity. It's a really interesting play. Basically, James and Lily are sort of in the same situation, so that's why I picked that for this chapter. Practically most of the dream with Harry and Hermione are word for word from _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ so they're not my words. The scene where Sirius talks to the Potters when he can't see them anymore actually choked me up. I don't know why! It really upset me! Oh, "Bohemian Rhapsody" really is written by Queen. By Freddie Mercury actually. I got the lyrics from . Now, I didn't title this fic "Life Had Just Begun" because of the song. Halfway through writing this, I was listening to the CD with that song on it and I realized something really weird. Basically, even though I'm sure Freddie Mercury didn't intend this, this song could be about the Marauders. The first part with "Is this the real life... Any way the wind blows, doesn't matter to me, to me" could be about James since he's dead and he can't affect anything. The next part "Mama, just killed a man... I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all" could be about Peter, since he basically killed the Potters and the whole "Mama" thing reminded me of Peter's mom who received his finger. The next part "I see a little silhouetto of a man... Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me" could be about Remus since he discusses how he's poor, "this monstrosity", and "let me go", which could be about his memories of his dead or as good as dead friends haunting him. The next part "So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye... Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here" could be about Sirius, thinking about Peter betraying him and his escape from Azakban. The last part "Nothing really matters... any way the wind blows" is James again, reminding that he is still dead and is separate from all this. I think way too hard about these things and you'll probably never hear that song the same way again. Anyway, I included it because it foreshadows Peter's betrayal, so that's why it's there. This will definitely be the second to last chapter. The next one is the last and our story will be done! Please review! Use the button or e-mail at destinyplot@lycos.com! See ya later!


	30. Katharsis

Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling. Man, I'm really getting sick of typing that.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Thirty: Katharsis

I opened my eyes to see Lily bolting out of bed, throwing on clothes and muttering, "Of course! Of course! This can be done!"

"What can be done?" I mumbled, getting my glasses.

"Can't explain now. I need the books. I need to check some things! James, go feed Harry and make breakfast. We don't have time to waste!" With that, she ran out. Groggy and confused, I got up, dressed, fed Harry who was beginning to cry when I got to him, and made breakfast. 

An hour later, Lily ran down the stairs, her face flushed. "This is going to work!" she declared.

"What is going to work? What did you get from that dream my father gave us? I'm still confused," I complained. I offered her a plate of toast. "Toast?"

"No, I'm not hungry," Lily refused as she swooped into a chair. 

"Well, what is the master plan? Don't tell me we're seriously going to use the Patronus Charm on him!"

"No, but close. The Patronus Charm is a protection spell, right?"

"Yes."

"And it can't be hurt by dark forces. You saw how Harry's Patronus knocked aside the dementors."

"So? That won't help us unless he decides to use dementors to bump us off."

"You're right, the Patronus Charm alone will not work. But we can use the same principle to create a shield that will reflect any dark magic away. Instead of using a happy memory, we'll use love." I burst out laughing. "What?"

"The power of love?! Are you serious? We're going to defeat the Dark Lord with the power of _love_? Are we superheroes on that kids' show on the Wireless?"

"It's not any stupider than the power of happiness which is basically what fuels the Patronus Charm!" Lily argued. 

"How will this work? Love him to death?" I joked. "And how are we going to do this charm? We're here and he's out there!"

"I don't think so for long," Lily replied sadly.

"Why? Do you think Peter will betray us?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, but I've just been thinking about what we saw. Or rather who we saw and how we saw him."

"Do you mean Sirius?"

"Yes. Your father said that Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Why would they send him to prison? For murdering Peter."

"But Sirius swore to protect him! _And_ Harry muttered that he was innocent!"

"That doesn't mean he can't be framed or set up. Think about it. Suppose for a minute that we weren't hiding and we found out that Sirius had been attacked, what would we do?"

"Go and help him," I answered.

"Now, suppose that we were hiding like Sirius and we were Secret-Keepers for someone. What would be the best way to lure us out of hiding?"

"To attack someone."

"Exactly. I think that the Death Eaters, not realizing that Peter is the Secret-Keeper will attack Peter to lure Sirius out of hiding. They'll kill Peter and kidnap Sirius. If he refuses to talk, they'll turn him for murdering Peter, even though he didn't. Since our protection would also be down, we could also die and the Ministry will blame Sirius for our deaths since he was supposedly our Secret-Keeper. Either way, we're all doomed."

I fell back into my chair, limply. "That's why Father kept going on about how there was little time."

"The Death Eaters are probably planning to kill Peter as we speak. We _must_ perform this spell or Lord Voldemort will be unstoppable."

"Tell me how this will work."

"James," Lily said with a pained expression, "there's something I must tell you before I can explain the spell."

"What?" I responded, clasping her hands in mine on the table. 

"For this spell to truly work, it must be performed on someone pure, who has not known grief or does not comprehend death, like a Patronus. In other words, it will only work on Harry. We can not use it on ourselves." Lily sniffled. "We'll die, James."

I brought our hands to my lips and kissed Lily fingertips. "Like Sirius, I am willing to die if it can save Harry and everyone else in the Wizarding world."

Lily nodded with tears in her eyes. "Yes, we must. I'm willing to die too."

"Explain the spell."

"We must concentrate all our thoughts and memories on Harry. We must think about how much we love him with all our mind, body, and soul. We must reflect on every cherished moment. We can not be bitter. We can not be grieved. These thoughts must be blotted of our very essences. Then we must concentrate hard on Harry and how much we love him and want to protect him as we say the words, 'Amo Patronum'. That should created a shield around him."

"And then he will be protected."

"Yes, and as an added bonus, which I think your father also meant to show us, is that Harry's entire body will be filled with it. He'll be a walking, talking Patronus."

"That's why he could do it at age thirteen! Well, will do it. He hasn't done it yet," I corrected with a smile. Lily giggled. "This sure is confusing."

"Let's do it tonight."

*** ***

At five o'clock in the evening of October 30th, we laid Harry on the floor of the sitting room. This was the floor that my parents danced. I reasoned that it would be a good luck charm. My father had believed that would live, grow up, marry, and have a child. Now, I believe that Harry will grow up, marry, and have a child of his own. I believe it with all my heart.

Lily and I sat on either side of him. Harry reached to his arms up and gurgled, "Mama, Dada!" Lily stroked his hair and I brushed a finger down his face. Lily bent down and kissed him on the forehead. When she rose, I bent down and kissed him in the same spot. It reminded me of the pictures I saw once of the Wailing Wall in Israel, the worshippers kissing the wall in reverence, pleading for their wishes to come true. I straightened up again and look into Lily's green shining eyes. We could very well kill Harry with this spell rather than protect him. 

"We will make this work," I stated firmly. Lily nodded and closed her eyes. I closed my eyes as well. 

"Concentrate, James. Put all other thoughts out of your mind. Think only of how much you love Harry. You want to protect him because all you know is loving him. You love him."

I focused on that thought: I love Harry. I tried to think of only him. Him when I saw him in my arms the first time, when I took him home, when he smiled at me, when he crawled towards me, when he reached out for me to pick him up, when he looked at me with love in his eyes, when he showed his first sign, when he called me "Dada", how he laughs, how he smiles, how he feels in my arms, how he falls asleep over my shoulder, how his breath feels against my skin. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him.

But bitterness and pain began to creep in. He would never know any of this. He would never know how much I love him. He would never know how I felt when any of these wonderful moments happened. I'll never see his smiling face in the morning or his sleepy expression at night ever again. I'll never see him go to school for the first time. I'll never see him get his Hogwarts letter. I'll never walk behind him as he chooses his first school supplies or when smile at him when he finds that perfect wand. I'll never wave at him as the Hogwarts Express pulls away for that first time. I won't be there when he walks off that train for that last time when he is a fully qualified wizard. I won't be there when he knows he's in love. I won't be there when he marries his dream woman. I won't be there when he has his first child in his arms. I'll miss every smile, laugh, tear, temper tantrum, whoop of joy, moment of insecurity, moment of hubris, failure, and triumph. Harry will go through life with a massive gap in his world, a gap that will never fill. A gap that I had been experiencing since my father had died, a gap that had grown when my mother had passed away, a gap that Harry will know for much longer than he deserves. 

"I can't do this!" I exclaimed, pushing away in shame. Lily's eyes snapped open.

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "You have to!"

"I'm just too angry. I don't want to be out of his life! I can't do it, I'll mess it up with my bitterness. I'm sorry," I explained mournfully.

"Then I'll do it alone," Lily answered solemnly. 

"Will you be able to?"

"I must be able to or there is no hope for him." Lily closed her eyes and said nothing more. I sat perfectly still. I don't know how long we both sat there in silence. Slowly, Lily opened her eyes and raised her wand, pointing it at Harry, who had miraculously become still as a statue. 

Lily looked possessed and she said in a focused voice, "Amo... PATRONUM!" There was a burst of silver light and Lily fainted. Not daring to move, I stared at Harry. He was surrounded by the dome of silver light, which glowed a rainbow of colours. The dome began to shrink smaller and smaller. It finally shrunk to his exact size and absorbed into his skin. For five seconds, he glowed silver, like a Patronus, and then the light was gone and Harry looked like he always did. 

Letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I rushed to Lily's side. She was coming around. 

"What happened? Did it work?" she mumbled.

"Well, a silver light shot out and surrounded him. And then it went into his skin so I think it worked."

"Thank God," Lily whispered, opening her eyes. I gasped in shock. "What? What's wrong?"

"Lily, Lily, your eyes!"

"What's wrong with my eyes?" I rushed out to fetch a mirror and came back in to hand it to her. She looked in the mirror and gasped. "How...?" Her eyes were no longer green but brown. 

"I don't know," I muttered. We rushed over to look at Harry to see if anything unpredicted had happened to him. He opened his eyes and giggled. He stretched his arms up towards us. "Mama, Dada! Hug!" 

"Look at his eyes," Lily whispered. His eyes were now green. 

"Oh, he was the boy in the dreams," I whispered, feeling faint. "He will become the boy with the lightning shaped scar on his head. That boy was truly Harry."

"I must have put too much of myself into the spell. You know that eye are the windows to your soul. I gave him part of my soul."

"That means that he literally has your eyes," I stated. "And it is your eyes that will save him."

*** ***

Now, we come to here. That happened last night. I found this empty notebook in our mess of stuff we brought for research. There is nothing more to tell. I just felt it. The protection is down. Peter is dead and Sirius is going to be sent to Azkaban. Lily and I are going to die. Lord Voldemort will surely attack us tonight. But Harry will live and perhaps he will bring peace to our world again.

Harry, I hope it is you who found this because it is for you that I began this. After we performed the Love Protection (I guess we should give it a name) Charm on you, I began this... memoir? Account? Confession? Explanation? I don't even know. I realized that if I die, you won't know how I was or how I felt. After my father died, there were times when I wondered what my father would have felt. There were times when I wanted to ask him what he thought when I was born, when I spoke, when everything happened. I'll never have the chance to really know. I mean, I got some information from my mother and others but I truly wanted to hear it from him, from his heart. I lost that chance. Now, you will lose yours. 

So, I sat down and I decided that I would tell you everything from the moment that I knew of your existence to this very moment. I don't think that this will replace having me there but at least you'll understand me a little better. Nothing can beat the real thing. 

I will not lie to you. I am scared. I don't want to die. But I'm sure my father didn't want to die and I'm sure that he was scared before the ultimatum was laid before him. When all choices are gone, I believe that fear flees and the inner strength remains. Many people think that courage is having no fear but that isn't true. Courage is being afraid and knowing very well that there is little hope of success but going forward and doing what you have to do. That's what my father did, twice to my knowledge. That's what I'll do. I will not let you say that your father, no, your Dad ran and fled, that your Dad did not stand tall and proud when Death stared him in the face. Yes, I am scared but I'm not going to lay down and die. If Lord Voldemort wants to kill me, then I'm going to fight until I am a cold corpse. Besides, the way I see it, I'm already running on borrowed time.

A woman that I admire very much once said that I would be asked who am I and that I would have to have an answer. I hope that this book is the answer. My life, my soul is laid out on these pages. This is the most accurate picture I can give you in this short period of time. 

Harry, never forget that I love you. I love you so much and I love your mother so much that it hurts. I don't want to leave you. If I could stay here with you and watch you grow, I would do it. But I can't without betraying you. I won't leave you in spirit. I'll always be standing by you, through everything. Give me all your hopes and fears, your laughter and tears. I will hold them for you. Like my father, I will wait for you. And when you are scared, I will whisper in your ear that you must keep fighting. 

The dawn is breaking. Funny, isn't it, that today is Halloween, when the spirits walk among us. I imagine Peter, the Blacks, Clarissa, Virginia Lenore, Lily's parents, my parents. All of them with us again. Watching over everyone. I can feel their watchful protection. 

I can see you sleeping beside me, Harry. Your mother is asleep on the couch nearby. My favorite people, my most beloved people. This will be the last time we will kiss you good morning. This will be the last time I will kiss your mother.

Sleep, little ones. Let me absorb this picture in my mind. 

Good bye.

I love you.

The End.

Author's Notes: Wow, that was short, wasn't it? "Amo", if you haven't guessed, is Latin for "to love, cherish". Yes, this entire thing was supposed to be written to Harry from James. The chapter title is Greek for "release". Aristotle said that katharsis is essential to a good tragedy. It's the point where the guy dies, the men find out they're brothers, etc that makes you resolve your emotions and make you glad you are not that person. Technically, this isn't a katharsis ending because I do not show James actually dying but it's pretty close. 

Now, why did I write this? 

When I entered the fandom, I wanted to write a Lily and James centered story. They fascinated me but there were already a hundred stories about them. So, I put that on the back burner. I read a lot of fics about the Marauders during the time just before James and Lily died. Most were very good, take no offense if you have written one, but there was one major flaw. 

JAMES IS REALLY, REALLY, _REALLY_ DULL AND **_BORING_**!!!

Always. In every fic, he is the most boring character. And it drives me MAD because I think he is unexplored territory and no one uses him for anything remotely interesting. Yes, they give him interesting _jobs_ but the man himself is unbelievably dull. Everyone else is really great and interesting and I love them to bits. But James and Lily are so boring. I can't stand them! The one fic that drove me to it was a phenomenal piece with beautiful characterization of Sirius, Remus, and Peter. But James and Lily were the most boring, cardboard cutout characters of the entire thing. I felt more bad for Peter than I did for James and Lily. This is not good. 

This drove me to frustration. So, my fic is basically my battle against the clichés. Let me tell you what clichés I took on.

For James, I made him actually have a personality. I did not try to make him perfect. I know, Harry loves his daddy very much but I think Harry puts his parents on a godlike pestle. They're great but they weren't _perfect_. So, I tried giving James and Lily flaws and human-like qualities. I let James be insecure. I let Lily scream at people. I let the Potters have not-so-great relationships with their parents. Notice how I didn't have James be abused as a child, that one is usually the fall-back. I also made sure that Petunia and Lily's relationship wasn't all Petunia being evil and Lily being all good and wanted to reunited. Blah. It takes two to tango. I have a hard time believing that Lily did not have her part in the sister rivalry. 

For Sirius, I didn't give him a perfect life. I've noticed in fics that Sirius has this wonderful, perfect life before he went to Azkaban. I don't buy that. No one's life is perfect. He must have some problems before he went in there. 

For Remus... okay, I didn't do anything cliché-busting for him. He simply wasn't in it enough.

For Peter, I didn't make him evil from day one. If he went around acting suspicious, don't you think someone would have noticed? Also, I made him part of the group. People like to forget that. And I gave him a girlfriend. I've never seen a fic where Peter is dating. If you have one, show it to me. I'm very curious to see one.

I feel that my mission has been successful. 

Now that I'm done ranting, I also wrote this to serve as a dumping ground for my theories. I always wondered what Lily's wand being good for Charms meant and why Harry's eyes are so important. This was my explanation. 

I apologize. I tried to stick to known canon as much as possible but I screwed up the ages. I made the Potters and everyone too old and Bill and Charlie too young. The Potters are older because in the first book it says that Petunia has not seen her sister in several years. I took several to mean around seven. I found out that it doesn't mean seven but more like five. I also didn't know that J. K. Rowling had said that Snape is 34/35 in Goblet of Fire so the Potters had to be 20/21 when they died, not 27 as they are here. The ages for Bill and Charlie was just a miscalculation. When I did up the ages for the Weasleys, I must have not added some years right or I forgot that Charlie ages at the same rate as Percy, I don't remember what I did. By the time I realized these mistakes, it was too late and if I had fixed it, the story would be ruined. So, I decided to just let it go and explain it now. Sorry. 

It has taken me over a year to write this. Yikes. This fic, not counting the author's notes, is 321 PAGES LONG on Windows Word! That's twenty pages shorter than _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ in the American paperback children's edition. I hope you haven't been sitting there and reading this in one sitting! Your butt must hurt! Ouch!

I have really loved writing this fic. I put a lot into making this. I really had to play God because I had to know where everyone was at every point in the story. There is stuff I know that I didn't even have room to mention, which is a shame. So, if you're curious about something, ask me! I hope my theories hold water but I doubt it. Ah, well, it was fun.

I'd like to thank Sugarquill.net for their Brit-pick thread. I found out many things I did not know before.

I'd also like to my anonymous friend who helped more than he knows or would like. He doesn't like fic writers or their fics. Especially Harry Potter fics. 

Finally, I want to give a big thank you to Naisumi, who has heard me rant, rave, and theorize as we waited for her ride to post-secondary and on AOL IM. I'm sure I've driven her mad but she's been a big help. Read and review her fics, please.

I hope that you have enjoyed reading my fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Please leave a review by clicking that button or e-mailing me at destinyplot@lycos.com. 

I'll see you again soon. 


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